


Thrilling Tremors

by Shorknado



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Graphic Description, Idk man nasty shit, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-10-27 20:14:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20766305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shorknado/pseuds/Shorknado
Summary: There is a darkness among us, creeping in the shadows of our hearts and corrupting every inch.Frank Morrison was not going to let himself be haunted by ghosts. Specifically ghosts that made the mistake of betraying his trust.There's nowhere to run here. Danny's going to learn that the hard way.





	1. Mt. Ormond Resort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. Back again.
> 
> Now before yall say anything ive had a general idea for a p2 and wasnt planning on writing anything but i was Inspired by evildoughnuts ghostfrank fic and ive written like 5 chapters please help

Time wasn't quantifiable anymore. What's a minute, or an hour, or a day to the infinite abyss? The only way to measure time was through breaths. By no means accurate, but steady and regular. It was all he had when opening his mind to the pool.

Frank let's out his two thousandth breath since he started counting, and opens his eyes to look at the endless night sky above him. The stars were wrong. Always were here. Everything was wrong. He sits up and stands, walking aimlessly towards the chalet. Maybe Jules or Joey were back from a hunt. Distantly he can hear Susie sniffling in the upper room she had claimed. She had been nothing but a fuckin' downer since getting here. Wherever here was exactly. And however long they were here either.

"Susie!" Frank calls in a singsong voice, causing her to pause in her weeping, "Shut the fuck up!"

Her cries immediately die down to soft whimpers. Annoying but he could deal with it. After all she was in pain, it wouldn't hurt to cut her some slack. He sits on a new looking couch circling the area where a generator sits during hunts and considers what to do now that he was done traversing the mental pool.

The darkness hums at him, asking nicely for him to go on a hunt.

Tempting, a good way to pass eternity with nothin' but killing randos.

Except he didn't like the fucking rules.

He could only run so fast or miss a swing and a blistering pain would shoot through his skull and slow him down. As much as he wanted to he couldn't gut those fuckers like fish to his heart's content.

There was a sort elation he felt when stringing them up at least.

A scratching noise emanates from one of the many out of place red armoires that were scattered around the hunting grounds. Stuck out like sore thumbs, but he had a knack for finding victims in them. He stands and approaches the red armoire and the noise changes. Switching from a scratching noise to the whispers of the darkness creeping.

It asks him nicely to open the armoire.

Frank does as he's asked, opening the creaking door and looking down at a single charm sitting at the bottom. He stoops and picks the item up. It was round rough hewn wooden skull on a keychain that was about the size of a loonie. It had a strange feeling too it. An object that came from nothing natural.

As he stares at the skull the darkness speaks to him directly.

_ "You worked well, the last one is yours." _

He shivers, feeling all the bones in his body buzz with unease as he breaks into a sweat. Frank never liked when the darkness spoke to him in words he understood. Much preferring the vague whisper that he felt its meaning more than understood the phrases.

The darkness did drive a hard bargain, however. Frank pulls his knife out, and clips the charm to the conveniently placed loop on the hilt. The wood has a menacing glow to it as he returns the knife to his belt and walks out of the chalet.

His shoes crunch the snow on the ground, leaving no footprints in his wake as he turns on his walkman. Letting the violent noises of his mixtape fill the dull air as he marches towards the gates. The same gates the lucky victims always ran out.

The fog swirls so thick at the end of the concrete it looks almost solid. To traverse this realm all he had to do was step out, think of a hunt, and eventually the haze would lessen and he would find himself in the playing field.

There were many more places than just Ormond. Endless corn fields, abandon junkyards, rainy forests, slaughterhouses, neighborhoods.

He knows that there are other beings out in the fog. Sitting in their own little haunts until going on their own hunts. Frank has seen a few of those boogeymen walk into Ormond through the gates. Tall tree like beings and humans in masks. Passing through with interest.

While he wasn't exactly hiding from these visitors, he wasn't making himself easy to find. The small brush with the other inhabitants of the fog had made him more and more weary if what else roamed the plains between hunting grounds.

More specifically, it made him weary of what Ghost's were out in the mist.

Danny wasn't dead. Not by a fucking longshot.

Frank steps into the fog, having stood at the edge of safety and unknown long enough.

Ghostface was out there, out in the mist. That much Frank was sure of.

He wasn't afraid of him, no. He was utterly fucking livid.

The fog condenses around him, whiting out his vision as he feels himself being taken away. Warmth dances on his skin, and his rage is eaten by the darkness bit by bit.

The victims aren't Danny, but they die and scream just the same as he would.

\---

The good thing about being so short was that more often than not the dumber victims would think he was like them.

Especially when he took his mask off.

He jogs after the taller victim as they run through, ironically enough, Ormond. It's always a bit different during hunts. Less furniture in the chalet, and more stupid walls with fucking pallets everywhere.

The victim jumps through a window, and he follows close behind. Watching it press against a wall, panting heavily. The victim offers him a quick nod and smile. Frank returns the nod as it looks out the window cautiously.

Frank hadn't seen this sneaky fuck all trial. Picked off the other three easily enough, and this was the last. This one was his.

He quickly pulls the mask on as the victim relaxes, letting out a sigh of relief. It pants a few times before turning its head to look at him. Fear and recognition lights up in those brown eyes, but it's too little too late.

He buries his knife into its liver, earning a pained cry as it stands and pushes him away. Stumbling and falling to the ground.

The skull keychain glitters with blood as Frank kicks the things stab wound, earning another guttural cry as it turns on his back. Still scrambling away.

First time doing it himself, he wanted it to be special.

Frank wipes the blood on his mask, and crouches down. Stabbing the knife onto the wood of the floor, blade barely cutting the tender flesh of the bodys neck.

The eyes stare up into his eyeholes, calm and dark. It knew there was no mercy to be found in the smile above.

But Frank could see, ever so slightly in those dark eyes, a hint of hope.

He pulls the blade left, slashing the victims throat in one smooth motion. He feels the blade hit bone, and wet choke as the corpse struggles momentarily before going limp. Head nearly detaching completely from its body.

The darkness buzzes around him, and he feels warmth in his fingertips. A job well done.

He watches the charm burn to ashes and rises. Stepping over the still warm body and making his way to the gate. He flips the switch, waiting five breaths until the metal screeches and the gate opens up to the fog. He thinks about Ormond as he walks into the fog. The correct one.

When he reenters the gate, he immediately catches sight of Joey. The man was sitting under the switch box and staring off into the distance. He can hear the tunes of his mixtape in the oppressive silence.

The rest of the gang was relatively new to this stuff, having arrived later than him. Apparently a few weeks had passed on the outside. Frank was a full fledged fucking Martyr to the press, it was absolutely hysterical to think about.

Him? A helpless moron caught under >I/i< thumb? Utter bullshit. What they had was much more complicated. But he'd rather kept that on the down low when it came to the other three knowing that.

"Hey Joe." Frank calls, crouching down next to his dower looking friend.

Joey's eyes glance over to him from under his mask, resting on the still fresh blood dripping off Frank's before sliding away.

"Hey Frank." Joey replies distantly, "That yours?"

"Nah. Big guys."

"Black big guy, or white big guy?"

"White."

He didn't really care much for the victims, but there really wasn't much else to talk about between hunts besides who killed who. He tried to keep them as impersonal as possible.

"I like that one. He's a real moron, eh?"

Frank snorts, "Huh, huh. Sure you don't like that he runs around without a shirt?"

"It doesn't hurt my opinion of him, that's for damn sure." Joey says with a slight laugh. Frank can almost hear the smile behind the mask and pats his friends shoulder comfortingly. Smearing blood on the thick black fabric.

"Oh I'm sure he likes you too, daffodil."

Joey flips him off and Frank rises to his feet, "Jules back yet?"

"With Susie."

"Figures." Frank huffs, walking towards the chalet with a wave.

Joey was doing fine, now he had to touch base with the girls. Julie had been very hard to read through this whole ordeal. Keeping him at arm's length at best, doing her hunts and sitting with Susie in silence. No way she was enjoying this shit, but she was putting up with it as best she could no doubt.

"Knock knock." He calls, walking through the door frame into Susie's room.

She sat in the corner on a couch cushion, hood up and face down as blood, tears and saliva dripped from the cracks of her mask onto the floor. It was hard to look at, so he focused on Julie next to her.

"Hey." Julie says softly, trailing her knife idly over the floorboards.

"How was your hunt?" Frank prods, leaning against a far wall.

"Fine."

Susie gasps and sniffles, more blood flowing from her mask as she sits up to look at him. The jagged cracks of her once cutesy mask leaked fluids and stares holes into him. The mere sight of it made him sick, but he forces a smile.

"How you doin' Pinky?"

"Okay." Susie forces out, the sound of unseen teeth clacking metal makes him shudder.

They could take their masks off, not that they ever did anymore. Just wide eyes and grinning skulls. But for some reason Susie couldn't. He assumes its the darkness punishing her for not going to hunts. Whatever was going on under the mask was no doubt a monstrous sight. Better her than him.

"Susie...you might feel better if you just-"

"No." Julie cuts in, looking up from the floor. Her masks eyeholes stare into him with a certain determination.

"It'll make her go eventually. Might as well get it over with." Frank replies with a shrug, letting the implication sink in before adding more.

"I mean, if she doesn't go what's stopping the darkness from making her a victim, eh?"

Susie sobs and Julie jumps to her feet, marching towards Frank and pointing her knife at him.

"Shut your fucking mouth." She growls angrily. Frank can see her hand shaking, and smiles under his mask.

He flippilanty knocks her hand away, and with little resistance it falls to her side.

"Don't hate the messenger, Jules." He whispers softly, "No one can protect her from the darkness but herself. Babying her will just make it angry."

"How do you know? How do you fucking know!" Julie had dropped her voice to a similar whisper, not wanting Susie to hear.

"Think about it, Jules. If you're not a killer here, what else are you?"

Her mask stares at him, the x'd out mouth and eyes a crude expression of surprise compared to his smile.

"A victim..."

"So get Pinky's fucking act together before we start stringing her up with the rest of 'em." Frank pushes off the wall and shoulder checks Julie on the way out.

He can hear Susie trying to force out garbled sentences to Julie as he jumps the railing to the second floor. Landing without so any twings of pain. Once Susie got off her morality high and starts doing hunts she would feel better. The darkness would stop making her suffer like this just because they tried to help him.

Frank quickly pushes the small shred of guilt he felt to the back of his mind. He didn't ask them to look for him, hell he would've been just fine alone here. Or as alone as he could get.

Y'know what? He needed some peace and quiet.

He turns towards the other exit gate, walking quickly into the fog and concentrating on what he wanted to see most. Ignoring the chills that ran up his spine as the milky fog collected around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also!! Some fanart from some amazing artist:
> 
> [frank and Ghostface](https://www.instagram.com/p/B18d1HXIhji/?igshid=1unoldkqypdji)
> 
> [danny "jed "ghostface" olsen" Johnson](https://www.instagram.com/p/B2u6Fy9Ja90/?igshid=kbh15dtwxxbn)


	2. Haddonfield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we back in the mine

Frank emerges from the mist in a neighborhood. He recognized the place having been here plenty of times on hunts. The enclosure was eerie as hell, considering it was the main street of a neighborhood picked up and thrown down in the middle of an abyss. It was one of the few places that never really changed during hunts, maybe since it was so small. Or maybe the darkness was simply shitty at creative architecture.

He walks through the gate and steps over a cement barrier blocking the street. The flashing lights of the police car were off, and not a single crow perched on any lights or cars. The only sound were his sneakers on the concrete.

Peace and quiet.

Frank stops at the house with the smiling jack o' lantern and real estate sign. There was a strange menacing look to the wooden walls that made the flight part of his brain tick. He ignores the response and climbs up a porch step, sitting on the middle step and pushing his mask up. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and a zippo. The same ones he had been carrying that last night. He takes one from the pack and lights it, leaning back and taking a slow drag.

The darkness wasn't exactly sure what nicotine was, and why Frank needed it. There was no rush or calming sensation that always accompanied the motions. Hell when he didn't smoke he never got any withdrawals anymore, no shakes or headaches. But his packet of Player's never ran out so hell, smoke 'em if you got 'em.

He watches the white smoke wafts up into the endless cloudy night. These stars looked a little better than Ormond's. Maybe the darkness had trouble with the Aurora Borialis, and it made the stars look fucked. Hell the darkness had problems with literally anything more than a front of familiarity. Absently he looks to the smoldering embers of the tobacco and counts his breaths as moments pass.

The ember hits the filter and he leans over to drop the butt into the burning jack o' lantern. It's then that he catches sight of the shape. A tall man in a bright white mask standing at the end of the street, near a hedge. The sight of him makes Frank jump, his heart pounds for a few moments before settling back down. The man stays still, black eyes of the mask staring at him with a strange curiosity.

Without thinking, Frank raises his hand and waves. That guy must be a resident of this neighborhood. Hell this was probably his house. Frank lights another cigarette and makes himself comfortable on the front porch. He saw the glint of the knife from here, and wonders what the darkness would let them get away with. Would it let them kill each other as they killed prey? He hears soft steady footsteps, and looks up at the shape walking toward him. He takes a drag of his cigarette and raises his eyebrows.

The masked man climbs the steps and walks past him. He can hear the gentle breaths behind the mask as the door of the spooky house is shut softly. Frank resists the urge to turn and look, instead uselessly smoking his way through another cigarette.

What a freak. Then again he wasn't unused to that type of guy. Personally, he really didn't mind being stalked. Weird to say yeah, he couldn't help but love attention, good or bad. No matter where it came from, thats what he craved more than anything.

That's what got him to let the mess with Danny go so far. He should've noticed the guy was utterly unhinged after he kidnapped him. Although assuming a stalker and murderer was even slightly sane is pretty damn stupid. Frank sighs, and flicks the second cigarette butt into the jack o' lantern. He runs his fingers through his hair, happy to see that the blood on his hands had faded away, as it always did. One thing he did miss after a good kill was long hot showers, but knowing the darkness it would fuck up the water.

He wonders where Danny is right now. The man came in with him, there was no doubt about that. Somehow Danny knew that the darkness was there that night, he warned Frank about it. The thought that the darkness might have made Danny a victim was very amusing. Hard to imagine the guy running scared from a bunch of whack jobs with knives. The irony of the situation was worth the effort.

Danny was out in the fog killing. Had to be. This place is a fucking paradise for him.

Frank had nowhere to run anymore. He wasn't sure when Danny would find him, hell he might've already found him. He gazes out onto the street, straining his eyes for a flash of a white mask. Maybe he could find him first.

Nothing seems amiss. But his skin was crawling.

The door at his back creeks, and Frank turns to look at the shape in the doorway leering at him. He feels like he's seen this guy somewhere...

"Is your name Michael?" Frank asks, pulling his own mask down in an attempt to avoid the piercing gaze.

The mask nods.

"Last name Myers?"

Another nod.

Frank snorts. What are the fucking odds? He gets to his feet, figuring he's overstayed his welcome long enough. As much as he'd like to subtly annoy this guy, he watched those movies. Getting pincushioned wasn't a fate he wanted. Besides, he liked this place. Helped him clear his head. Wouldn't do him any good to make the guy who lives here hate him.

"See you." He says with a wave, knowing the masks is watching his every move as he walks towards the gates.

He wonders if Michael had seen Danny. Wasn't Halloween his favorite scary movie? He'd have to ask next time he came around. Frank steps into the fog, walking out until the gates of the neighborhood faded away.

Returning to Ormond wasn't exactly what he wanted to do right now. The rest of the gang needed more time to settle in to their stations and stop being huge fucking downers all the damn time. Yes it wasn't exactly fucking ideal, but crying all the damn time wasn't going to fucking fix it.

The darkness whispers to him, and he feels the anger and annoyance dull down to a simmer in his mind. A cool familiar numbness returns to him as a comforting blanket. He lets out a breath and relaxes his shoulders, letting the few emotions fade away until he felt nothing.

The fog swirls around him almost gleefully, and the gates to Ormond comes into view. Just barely he catches sight of a black figure ducking behind the brick wall surrounding the pocket of Ormond. Frank pulls out his knife, and strides forward. Clearing the exit barrier and rounding the corner angrily. Nothing was amiss, none of the tell tale marks of a victim running. Footprints don't appear outside of hunts. He walks forward listening carefully for any signs of life, or ghosts.

"Danny." Frank growls, stopping at the base of a small hill and peeking around, "Don't fuck with me."

He hears a crunch of a boot on snow and whirls around with his knife raised, coming face to face with Joey. The man steps back, raising his hands up palms out.

"Hey, easy Frank, just me." Joey says, voice low and comforting. Frank relaxes, the dark shadow was just Joey.

"Saw you come in from the Chalet, what's got you spooked man?"

Frank's eyes dart past Joey to the exit gate, and he feels his heart start pounding in his chest.

A familiar white mask was peeking around the corner. Danny raises a single hand, and waves.

Frank shoves Joey aside and broke into a sprint as the ghost hides away. He stumbles slightly over something on the ground, but stays on his feet to round the corner and stare into the empty gates. The fog swirls, and Danny was gone.

"Fuck! Get back here you fucking-"

"Frank! What the fuck man!" Joey interrupts, "There's no one there a-and who the hell is Danny?"

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Frank yells, lashing out and grabbing Joey's arm, "You saw him right? You saw him!"

"Who?" Joey asks, looking at the gate and back to Frank.

"Ghostface! You saw him right?"

Joey stares down at him, he can see the warm brown eyes literally soften at his words. The sight annoys him. Joey gently rests his hand over Frank's and squeezes comfortingly.

"Frank, Ghostface isn't here." He says in a soft whisper, like he was talking to a fucking child.

Frank shoves him away, half tempted to stab Joey in the ribs out of anger. Almost forgot Joey was under the impression that Ghostface had assaulted him or whatever. No point correcting that now, boy was still delicate.

"Don't take that fucking tone with me!" He snarls, sheathing his knife and stomping past Joey. He's about to yell further when he catches sight of what he tripped on earlier.

A wallet sat innocently in the snow. He recognized it instantly and he quickly scoops it up and shoves it in the inner pocket of his jacket before Joey notices. He keeps his distance from the Chalet, instead finding a spot to settle down near ski lift pole. Not much cover, but Danny had left Ormond so he felt safe enough. He opens the worn leather wallet, finding it mostly empty of any cards. There were thirty american dollars in the main part. Useless here but Frank pockets it anyway.

He slides Danny's license out of the wallet and looks at the neutral face before him. He was a few years younger and clean shaven in the photo, much shorter hair. Daniel Johnson was a surprisingly plain name. Made his fake name seem almost more realistic. He tucks the plastic back into the wallet, pulling out a folded polaroid photo.

Great.

Frank unfolds the paper before he can dread on what he would find. He stares at a photo of him and the gang, back before they found themselves here. He recognized the picnic table they sat on, and feels a shiver run down his spine.

Danny had been watching him for a while, and he wanted to let Frank know.

He folds the photo and shoves it in his pocket as well before tossing the wallet as far away as he can. He hears it bounce off the bricks of the walls and out of sight.

There was nowhere to run here. He knew that, and so did Danny. As much as he wanted to feel something about that fact, he didn't. Frank wasn't afraid of Danny or whichever persona he was wearing. Not by a long shot. He was pretty fucking pissed at him for trying to kill him and getting the rest of his gang stuck in this purgatory. As much as he was grateful for their company it wasn't a fate he would wish on friends.

He knew Danny well. Obviously not as well as he thought he did, but he knew the man was toying with him. Letting him stew long enough alone until he had a small glimmer of hope that he wasn't here, then showing his face just enough to make Frank think he was hallucinating. Danny's modus operandi isn't exactly hard to figure out, but he had the capacity to be unpredictable.

Frank lets out a breath and slips his hands under his mask to rub his face. He was losing focus. His hands fall to the ground onto the snow below, and he runs his fingers over the texture of the ice. Something felt wrong about it, but he couldn't quite place what the wrongness was. He picks up and handful and packs it into a snowball. Which didn't look any different than a normal snowball. He tosses it against a nearby tree, and it explodes in a small flurry of ice.

Ice....

Cold. The snow didn't feel cold to the touch. The thought occurs to him that he's never felt cold in Ormond. Or even in the raining forests, he's never actually felt chill or wetness from the rain. The only time he ever felt anything cool was...that night. Staring at the stars before it all went black. He felt cold then.

Now he felt numb, for real. Inside and out he was nothing.

He feels his breaths come faster, and he quickly stands. Forcing any further thoughts out of his mind as he all but runs to the Chalet.

Frank couldn't let himself dwell on that.

Shit would drive him fucking crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno if Michael will appear again, i got some ideas but idk about workin em in


	3. Backwater Swamp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new point of view approaches
> 
> 8/18 Edit: im rewriting dannys pov to make him more fucked up and evil

Its always very important to find a target before they find you.. For instance he had been creeping around and already found an easy target. Medium build, tan, long hair in a fancy Patagonian hiking jacket, cargo pants from the same brand, and hiking boots. Presumably Moncler but maybe Timberlands. Gloves and scarf an unrecognizable brand, but clearly well made. He comes from a rich family but rejects the lifestyle judging by how unkept the namebrand clothing always was. Danny had been calling this man Green Jacket in his notes. He had encountered him only a few times, but enough to distinguish a pattern in his action. 

Green Jacket always looked left, at his hands, then right. A simple formula, covering his bases while efficiently finishing his objective. He counted an opening of four seconds in which the man was concentrating on fixing the machine, and not on his surroundings.

By no means was he being careless, but predictable. Against other, less cunning beasts in the night this was a incredible strategy. Green Jacket, despite his larger frame, could be very sneaky when he wanted to be. Catching him unaware was impertinent as he could easily slip away in a chase.

Left, three seconds, then down.

One.

Danny moves out from behind the log he was crouched behind. Boots stepping softly on the grass between the mud to muffle his steps.

Two.

The man uses a rag to wipe an unseen part of the inner machine off, dropping it carefully back in the toolbox and starting to look right and behind him.

Three.

Danny reaches out and grasps both the scarf and lapel of the jacket, gripping it with a unnatural strength gifted to him by the Darkness.

Four.

He easily yanks the young man away from the generator. Green Jacket only makes a soft choking noise and shocked gasp as the soft fabric of his scarf chokes him. Never made a noise unless he was completely helpless. Then the real whimpers start as his iron will unravels under pain and fear. He throws the man over his shoulder with the supernatural strength, eyes immediately pulled to a nearby hook as the Spider wraps its dark pulsing carapace legs around the generator. It tells him that the one on the boat was occupied with a series of whispers not unlike t.v static and eyeballs put through a blender.

Danny smiles, and tosses the man onto the rusty meathook, enjoying the utter silence where most would scream. What he would give to know what gave Green Jacket such fortitude, and how many fingers nails he could pop off the mans hands before earning a scream. Probably all ten.

The boat was a long jaunt away, and he had other ideas dripping in his mind.

He shuffles off out of Green Jackets sight, taking a moment to kick the generator once the Spider lets it go. Ducking behind a wet mossy rock and peeking out the other side.

Just as expected, he sees a flash of white through the reeds, and grips his knife in anticipation.

Dwight always saved Green Jacket. Sure the man would save just about anyone. But ig whatever premonition the targets had that told them just how and who was in danger was to be trusted, Dwight always came running for Green Jacket fast and vice versa.

Careless, and predictable. A deadly combination. These two were going to have to learn to play a littke more risky if they wanted to live.

He watches Dwight look left, and he ducks out of sight when the gaze turns towards him. Peering back out just in time to observe him sprint towards Green Jacket. 

Where Green Jacket came from wealth, Dwight certainly did not. His clothing was all nameless brands, or that rare occasion he wore that festive elf costume. Which is where Danny got his name, one of the few targets that had a piece of identification on their corpses. Dwight was from a working class, blue collar, easily overlooked and stepped on but with a suprsing amount of curage stored inside him. The type to be against cannibalism at first if he happened to be in the Donner party, but nevertheless would succumb to eating human flesh once he got hungry enough.

Warmth pulses through Danny's fingers, and Dwight stumbles. Danny starts to sprint, paying no mind to the silent approach as he senses Dwight's hesitation before the man moves forward and lifts Green Jacket off the hook with a grunt. Designer boots squelching in the mud as Green Jacket lands, horrified expression on his face as Danny bears down on his hero. 

The Spider lets him aim true, and he sinks his knife in Dwight's lower back. A specific spot along the spinal cord to cause paralysis of the legs. A small reverberation as the blade sings across depicate bones and tissues. The man crumbles with a scream of agony that echos throught the swamp, setting off a flock of crows. 

Danny glances up to see Green Jacket already running off towards a field of cattails. No doubt hiding nearby to provide further assistance for his friend. He looks down to see Dwight crawlig through the muck towards a overturned rowboat. Fingers clawing the ground as he drags his now useless legs behind him. Danny stoops to pick him up before the man gets too far, he could make a good camoflauge with enough mud on his shirt. 

Dwight had been far too careless so early in their game. Danny drops him on the meat hook, and stares as the man screams are cut short by the spiders carapace weaving itself out of rhe air and stabbing its dull legs into Dwight. Pushing into the sift skin before stopping, soaking in the pain as the man twitches in death through, choking and gagging on the blood running up from his throat. The dark legs pull out of the man, dragging a few ropes of his greyish guts out to sway in the wind cheerfully. His body is limp, soft brown eyes gazing into Danny's, reflecting the white mask back at him as the hook creaks. The glasses slide slowly off his face and into the mud below. Danny enjoyes the sight of it, invigorated by the feeling of accomplishment and pride. He's tempted to cut a section of the intestines out and force feed it to Green Jacket when he catches the fucker.

Two down. Two to go.

He trots off towards the boat as the horn goes off, and grins when a dark shape drops down and darts off into the reeds.

\--

The Spider was pleased. Its praise a chorus of death rattles and snapped necks don't give him the same rush as hearing others talk of the Ghostface murders, but he takes it nevertheless. Idly shuffling off as the legs of the Spider stab into Metal Head. The sentiments of an unfathomable eldritch entity weren't ones he gave much merit too considering it was just using him for whatever ends these games lead to. 

Warmth spreads over his body as the fog quickly overtakes him, swirling around and returning him to the endless fields he roamed in the off time. There were so many places to visit in the Spider's web, but his favorite was Ormond. His obsession was there.

He pictures the chalet in his mind's eye, and the fog opens up to the brick entrance of the winter wonderland. Danny passes the gate entirely, dragging his gloved hands across the brick exterior. In the games the walls of Ormond where shorter with spiked bars keeping contestants inside, but in the fields giant brick walls surrounded all pockets of life that cropped up along the web. Except for the endless forests where he suspscted the victims waited out their purgatory amongst the trees. Eventually his hand catches on a potential foothold and he stops. The tassels of his outfit flow outward as he starts to scale the wall. Hand and footholds coming easily to him all the way to the top. He crouches on the foot wide top of the wall and looks down into the snowy lands of Ormond.

As awful and decrepit here as ever. A quick survey of the area showed no signs of life wondering outside in the open. So Danny sits, kicking his feet against the bricks and pulls out his notebook, flipping the pages he had on the targets he faced earlier today and making more notes. There wasn't much to add, but he did note that Green Jacket might change his routine on generators due to him getting pulled off so much. At least he hoped he would. Unfortunately he hadn't faced of against Missing Hand in this game. His notes on that target were sparse and he was itching to fill more out. 

He tucks the notebook and pen away in his pocket and looks back to the Chalet. Desperately hoping to see his object of obsession. Time was tricky here, but he knew that he had left Frank to sit long enough after making himself known. It was so hard to stay away from him, out in the real world and in the fog. Frank had something he had never seen before in others, something dark churning inside him that was hidden away. 

That's why the Spider wanted them that night. When the police were closing in it whispered to him clearly, telling him how to escape. Promising him a fertile hunting ground, and victims by the dozen. Telling him at it was the Devil and that he was just like it. Whispering that he could kill a hundred times over without consequences, that he could go further and further into his own mind until he finally understood what the fuck was the matter with himself.

Most importantly, it promised him Frank.

A figure steps out onto the balcony of the Chalet, and he perks up. He watches them lean against the railing stare at the falling snow ruefully. By the looks the feral teen was Julie and not Frank, she was decidedly more curvy and a little taller. He knew the rest of Frank's little legion weren't coping too well with their new lot in life. Serves them right for wonder into his little slice of heaven with Frank and wanton murder. And if the Spider's whispers were correct, Susie hasn't participated in a single game.

Personally Frank's legion didn't interest him as much as the main course. He enjoyed watching Frank interact with them, the way he so easily and subtly manipulated the naive was inspiring. It was a bitch convincing people to like you, he knew that from experience, and Frank did it so easily he almost wanted to ask for pointers. Despite the drag of feral teens getting in the way of his love life it was better for Danny that they were here though, a crumbling support system would send Franky right into his arms.

A second figure joins Julie, judging by the bulk and lovingly handmade knit sweater it was Joey. He's too far away to hear their conversation or read their lips due to the masks, but Julie's shoulder immediately relax as he appears. She turns her body towards his as they chat, body language light and open. He watches with interest, and wonders how they'd react if they caught sight of him. Wasn't too sure what Franky said that night to get Joey's car but it probably wasn't very nice. Not to mention they seemed to come into the realm later so maybe they knew what came out after their disappearance. Most importantly he wonders where Frank was right now.

The Spider whispers to him in blood drips, and his eyes are drawn to the shed near the yellow snow machines and power boxes. A small pink outline of a man glows for split second before fading away. Danny briefly debates making himself known to Frank again or delay his gratification further.

He stands and walks along the top of the wall towards the shed as he mulls it over. Happy to see Frank was back to his old habits of self isolation when stressed. The man could light up a room, and he caught Danny's eye the instant he saw him walking down the street. Why, he couldn't exactly pinpoint. At first he assumed that his infatuation was due to Frank being an interesting target. A man who kept just enough habits to track, but had a streak of unpredictably. Sharp as a tack but shockingly oblivious to deception. Not a perfect victim, but a perfect challenge. A soulmate he had to fight for.

He just saw the bloodlust in those eyes of his that night and couldn't get enough of it.

Frank was a target from day one, but he wasn't exceedingly special. He was no more important to Danny than the man with the camera. His plan for Frank had originally been to make Frank, Julie, Susie and Joey the Ghostface's very last victims. The real tragedy of Ormond would be the deaths of four troubled teens, the perfect plot of a bad horror movie to show up those Woodsburough copy cat. He was going to make Frank so fucking paranoid he wouldn't be able to sleep alone. And once he saw the circle around his house, Frank would hide out at Julie's with the others. Then he would paint the floors red with blood before making his escape into the cold night

Plans change.

\- -

Ghostface drops the roast that Paula was going to eat for dinner into the poodles food bowl. The dog immediately stops barking and starts devouring the feast. He stops to pat its head, he really loved dogs. Animal cruelty was where he drew his line. When he stands and turns to Paula her eyes are filled with fear. Ghostface pulls his knife out with a soft sliding noise, watching curiously as her eyes dart towards the door. In them he can see a dark figure in the doorway as hope lights her brown iris.

He stabs the knife directly into the top of her head. It sounds like a knife sliding into a pumpkin, and she immediately goes slack. Grey hair turning pink then red as blood gushes out from her still beating heart. Behind him he can hear a soft gasp, and turns around theatrically slowly. Bringing the knife up to wipe the blade clean of blood.

It takes him a moment to pull a name from his repertoire of victims in Ormond. This was one he had already called and teased for a few minutes, very interesting reactions. The man was Frank Morrison, he was wearing his Fairview varsity jacket, black shirt and camouflage pants, no specific brand for either but the Varsity jacket was particuarly well made. He had on black beat up knock off converse shoes. A cute rebel look, had to love it.

Frank has a look of elation in his bright eyes. Not horror or disgust. Just pure, honest joy at the sight of violence. Ghostface had only seen it in the reflection of his earliest victims eyes. How interesting, he wanted to know more.

"Wait! Wait! Don't kill me." Frank says quickly, voice stern and commanding. No fear in his tone, only pure survival instinct. Interesting.

\- x -

It was then and there that Frank sealed his fate. Danny would never kill him. He couldn't. It was Frank's fault really, he was too good to let go.

Frank made it too easy for people to fall in love with him.

Danny drops down from the ledge a few feet away from the shack, landing silently in a snow drift as his tassels wave about. Through the small doorway he can see Frank tucked into the corner, carving something into the floor with his knife. He was wearing his faux leather jacket and camo skinny jeans, a personal favorite look. The mask covers his face, but Danny doesn't mind. The mask was cute and childish. Reminded him of their second meeting, and how good Frank looked when he wrapped a gloved hand around his pale throat. How much his heart fluttered when the man offered up his coat, as if it was prom night and they were about to fuck in an old shack.

He watches Frank until he stops carving, and drops the knife on the floor. Pushing the mask up to rub his eyes. He can see the weariness on Frank's face from here, and wishes to comfort him.

Just a bit longer. He has to wait just a bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bern glin thru a lot so updates will be pretty varied. I still have 2 more chapters written and but i wanna stay ahead of the curve so shrug shrug


	4. Autohaven Wreckers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens. Oh boy!

Frank was on edge.

Something was coming. Something had to  _ had _ to happen soon. It was driving him fucking crazy that there was no quantifiable way to tell time. That he existed in a fucking void of dreary not day not might always conscious and just  _ waiting _ for him to show his fucking face.

He knew Danny was out there. He was probably watching him right now. Frank stares at the flames of the never ending fire and wishes for something to end this malise.

Of course he could go one a hunt, but so many in a row and he started to get fatigued. The hide and seek never physically exhausted him, but the mental exercise was taxing. Most bumps and bruises tended to stick around for a bit afterwards anyway. Not to mention if he didn't do well the darkness would pester him, toy at his mind and suggest that he do better or else. His head hurt too much to live with that.

He didn't like being told what to do, and he didn't like being threatened. But one look at Susie was enough to convince him to perform to the best of his abilities. He could hear her now, pacing the upper balcony in an effort to keep her mind off the pain. Why couldn't she just do one fucking hunt? She didn't even have to kill them all, just stab most of 'em a couple times and string at least one up. The hook shit was just extra pain for the darkness to eat, she didn't have to kill them with her own hands. They almost never got that pleasure. Frank sits up and climbs over the back of the couch, marching upstairs and into Susie's space.

"C'mon, we're going." Frank orders, causing Susie to stop her pacing and look at him, mask tilting.

"Wha?"

"We're goin' for a walk. Take your mind off..." He gestures to her dripping mask, "That."

She nods, and walks over to him. He gently takes her arm and leads her downstairs and out of the Chalet before an arm around her shoulders.

A change of scenery was what they needed. The endless not cold of snowy Ormond was starting to make him itch. Since finding Haddonfield he had started to wonder who else was out in the fog. If Michael fucking Myers was here who knew what else would be haunting these grounds. Might find some decent conversation, or a place to hang out. Before leaving he looks over his shoulder, scanning the expanse of white for a few moments before marching out.

"Where are we going." Susie garbles out, teeth clacking on unseen metal.

"Dunno. Maybe someone who can help you?" Frank offers as the fog swirls gently over them. Susie lets out a grunt in response.

"Try and think of something or someone that can y'know ease your pain. I think the darkness will show us the way."

Susie nods, and they continue to walk in silence. He honestly doubts there's anything anyone can do for her at this point. She had to help herself. He glances at her profile, and subtly tries to peek around her hood and under the mask. She pulls her hood lower and shoves her hands in her pockets. Frank looks forward as a gate emerges from the fog. Susie perks up excitedly and walks out of Frank's arm towards the entrance.

"Hey careful! Don't know what's out there!" Frank warns, jogging to catch up with her as they pass through the brick openings, "Stay close okay?"

Susie nods, gazing with fascination at the junkyard they found themselves in. Frank remembers it from hunts, although it was much bigger than usual. Cars strewn about haphazardly as the gas station sign blinks ominously in the distance. The place was also absent of the crows, only silence and their footsteps. He figures the inhabitants of this realm should be around, but he doesn't exactly want to start yelling.

"Let's check the gas station." He offers, that's where he would go at least.

They walk past the broken cars, sharp metal and glass sticking out from every angle as a soft breeze passes by. Carrying the stench of rust and rot. It makes his skin crawl. The cars start to lessen as the building comes into view. It looks different than it does in hunts. Slightly more put together than usual. Susie hesitates momentarily before peeking her head in through the door and stepping in. The bell above her head rings softly.

The shelves are lined with empty cans and boxes that once held food. The counter was covered in broken glass and change. Frank is sad to see that there wasn't a dumb bell to hit fourteen times to get a laugh out of Susie. Instead he turns to her and digs the thirty he took from Danny's wallet out of his pocket.

"Snacks are on me."

Susie snorts and shakes her head, walking past Frank into the back room. He drops the bills on the counter and wonders if there was any edible food here. Potato chips were starting to sound like fucking heaven. Curiously he rounds the counter and looks into the open register, only seeing a few American coins.

A loud bell sounds from the back room, and Susie screams.

Frank yanks his knife out and runs into the room grabbing Susie's shoulder and yanking her behind him. Coming face to chest with a tall black figure. He tilts his head up at the creature in front of him, staring at the glowing white eyes deep set in its thick wood like skin. It was holding a human spine and bell in white stained hands. God this thing was at least seven foot tall. It tilts its head at them curiously before, shockingly, speaking.

The words are not English by a long shot. He can't pinpoint the language, but it's earthly and not the whispers of the dark. The deep voices words warp as they come out, and despite not knowing the language Frank understands the meaning.

"What do you want."

Frank pushes through his bafflement to reply, figuring the darkness would work its magic when he spoke.

"She needs help." Frank says, gesturing to Susie, "The fog brought us here."

The creature's glowing eyes flick to Susie for a moment, before returning to Frank.

"Are you prey?" The creature asks, switching to an accented English, "Or are you hunter?"

"Hunters." Frank says confidently.

The creature steps forward, and Frank forces Susie to step back, raising his knife.

"Back the f-"

"You want help, or no?" The creature demands.

Frank glares uselessly, and slowly lowers his knife. In response the creature tucks the mean looking scythe into his belt next to the bell. Slowly Susie steps around Frank and stands at his side. The creature kneels down to eye level with Susie. Now that he was closer Frank can see the wooden skin was more like a mask that had melded into the flesh itself. Creepy. It stares at Susie, and shakes his head.

"You will get nowhere like this. The pain will not stop until you hunt."

Blood drips onto the floor and Susie shakes her head.

"I can't."

"You can. And you will. What you do is admirable, but it makes no difference to prey." The creature says, standing to its full height, "Hunt, child. Save yourself the pain."

Susie shakes her head, sobs starting up again and Frank rolls his eyes. He was hoping for something else? Maybe for this guy to do a little ritual and heal her?

"I-If I hunt..." Susie slurs out, teeth clacking on metal, "Will the mask come off?"

"In time, yes. It is not enough to hunt now. You have disobeyed. Hunt and do well, then the Alusi will give you relief." The creature turns away from them, walking towards the single window with a busted out pane.

"Do not blame the darkness in your heart. We can not help it. The prey fight to survive, and we fight to survive just the same."

Frank feels deeply unsettled in this creatures presence. It was no doubt a man at one point, but god knows how long it had been in the fog. The way it spoke...the resignation in its tone. It was creeping him out. The fucking thing wasn't even human anymore, if it was human at all. It had done nothing but make Susie cry more, which was starting to make Frank's head throb.

"Thanks for nothing, asshole." Frank snaps, grabbing Susie's arm and leading her out. The creature doesn't respond. It simply stares out the window into the junkyard.

He leads Susie out of the gas station and starts towards the exit. She moves quickly, wanting to leave as much as he does.

"Do you hear it?" She asks softly.

"The darkness?"

She nods, staring at her feet as Frank guides her around cars.

"Yeah. I do."

"It's so loud Frank. I can barely think."

Pity hits him hard, and he pats her back. Unable to ease her pain in the slightest. She wasn't a killer, but life is unfair. If she didn't adapt soon, he was sure she would be on the other side of the hunts before long.

Could he killer her, if he had to?

The darkness hums in his mind, voiceless words washing over his brain. He can feel it practically salivating at the thought.

The familiar gates of home are in their sights, and Frank walks behind Susie as they trudge to the chalet. Keeping a close eye on his surroundings for any ghosts.

"...can you stab me any harder, Julie? I mean by all means make my open sores worse." Joey's voice echoes past the check in counter, followed by a yelp.

"Stop moving so much." Julie scolds.

Frank and Susie round the corner to see the other two sitting near the fire. Julie was attempting to stitch up a nasty looking gash on Joey's back. Julie looks up and immediately smiles at the sight of Susie.

"Hey, where've you been?" She asks, looking down to attempt to poke a needle through Joey's skin, only for him to grunt in pain.

"Move." Frank orders, taking over the shitty attempts at first aid. His best kept secret was the A plus he had in home economics, specifically the sewing section. Julie takes that as an invitation to sweep Susie off to her cry corner.

"Thanks, Julie was stabbing me harder than the chick who did this."

Frank snorts, carefully piniching Joeys bleeding flesh together and stitching it up. He can see the man's fist clenched in pain, and tries to be gentle.

"That blondie is such a bitch to kill. What she get you with this time?"

"Piece of glass I think. We were at that creepy ass hospital."

He hums, grabbing a cotton pad and gently dabbing some blood away. The annoying thing about hunts was having to walk off injuries. Thankfully no broken bones or rolled ankles, but he had gotten his fair share of back stabs, splinters, bruises, and glass shard stuck in his hands. Granted the wounds healed much faster than normal, but the fact that they got them at all was annoying.

"You'd think the darkness would actually fix these up. Considering it brings the prey back every time."

Joey glances back, raising an eyebrow curiously, "Prey? That what we callin' em now?"

Frank shrugs, tying off the stitch and putting a gauze pad over it.

"Call 'em like I see 'em."

He puts the supplies back in the medkit he had lifted from from one of the shit heads a few trials back. Frank stands and places on the bar top where it belonged. They would have to get a new one soon. He turns back to watch Joey tug on his shirt and hoodie.

"Where'd you get that jacket?" Frank asks, "Not very stealthy, bud."

Joey looks down at the neon blue striped jacket with a shrug before smirking up at Frank and winking.

"Like what you see?"

"A bit."

The man ties on new, cool looking mask and Frank wonders if he could use Joey's old mask. He always liked how it looked.

"The, uh, darkness gave it to me. Showed up in one of the armoires after a good hunt." Joey admits with a shrug.

"Damn, kill enough people and you get new clothes? Drive a hard bargain, eh?" Frank jokes, dropping down on the couch with a sigh. Joey immediately moves to sit next to him.

"Don't put it like that." Joey says softly, leaning back and resting his arms over the back of the seat to gently brush his shoulder, "It's...still not easy for me."

Right, right. Joey wasn't compartmentalizing like a good psycho killer. He'd get better at it in time. Frank shrugs as Julie slides down the railing. Landing with a light thud before joining them on the couches, casting Frank a suspicious look.

"Susie said you went and saw someone?"

"Yeah. Guy that lives in the junkyard. Said a lot of cryptid shit. Real tall, black, super creepy looking." Frank handwaves the experience away, "Maybe you know him Joey. Your uncle?"

"Shut up, Cracker."

"Weird to think there's others out there in the fog." Julie muses as Frank elbows Joey in the ribs, looking out the window as if she could see anything new, "Wonder why they don't come for us."

"Same reason we don't go out their either. Shits spooky." Joey replies, taking his beating like a champ "Feels like I'm being watched."

"We are." Frank says, causing the two to look at him curiously, "Ghostface is out there."

The atmosphere drops to an awkward silence, but he needs to talk about it eventually. Danny might make a move on the others and if they aren't warned they could get seriously hurt. He can feel Joey shift uncomfortably at his side. Frank simply stares into the ever burning fire, letting the silence simmer.

"He's not out here Frank. The guy left you to die up there and-"

"Oh, were you there? Good to know." Frank deadpans back at Julie.

While Joey sidestepped any mention of Ghostface, Julie liked to get snappy. It was entertaining to pit them against each other. Julie was annoyed he wasn't being tougher, and Joey was guilty about enabling the situation that night. Free show.

"Frank, what are the odds he got here too? The darkness just wanted you because you were-"

"What? Vulnerable? Because I was ra-"

"Stop." Joey butts in, "Julie stop antagonizing him, and Frank just...calm down for a hot second. How do you know for sure he's here with us?"

Joey  _ really _ didn't like him dropping that bomb. Not that it was true, but he wasn't going to tell Joey he lied that night anytime soon.

"I've seen him." Frank replies, staying cryptid as ever.

Joey's arm hesitantly wraps around his shoulder fully. Frank leans in. Je hates to admit he enjoys the content quite a bit.

"Are you sure?" Julie asks, breaking the awkward silence that had built up. She sounded resigned, almost hopeless.

"Are you not going to believe me here too? Do I need to vanish into the fucking mist again to take any of the shit I say seriously?"

"Okay Frank, Fine! I'm fucking sorry I- we didn't believe you at first! But it was crazy! You were getting phone calls and...and fucking basketball pranks! It sounded like a-"

"Am I a fucking joke to you?" Frank snaps, shoving Joey's arm off and standing. He's only able to loom over Julie because she's sitting, but he doesn't need height to intimidate her.

"I thought you were my friend." Frank adds, lowering his voice and letting it sound hurt. Immediately Julie relents and looks down in guilt.

"You are Frank....and I'm sorry we didn't believe you before but...I believe you now okay? And we did come around eventually! That counts."

He stares at her, refusing to speak. That wasn't the apology he wanted. It wasn't good enough. Julie stares back at him in defiance. He really hated it when she put her foot down, but now was a good time to punish her for it. He glances around the room, and catches sight of a black cloth tassel fluttering by the door as a dark shape slips away.

Rage hits him like a bolt of lightning, and he draws his knife. Julie and Joey leap to their feet at the same time, but he charges up the steps of the recessed lounge and towards the bar. Easily vaulting the bar top and running out the doorway.

"Danny! I know you're fucking out here!" He screams, staring hard at the snowy landscape for any signs of the dark cloaked figure. He was sick of this freak edging closer and closer to him while he was unable to even catch more than a fleeting glimpse of the fucker.

"Frank, there's no one here?" Joey calls in concern. He turns to see him and Julie standing in the doorway. Masks leering at him mockingly.

"No, no he was! I saw his fucking stupid tassel. He has these things on his coat they like float and..." Frank trails off as Joey looks to the left and lifts a shredded black cloth of a loose nail up.

"It...it was moving. There's no wind here and it was moving!" He stops and takes a breath, realizing he sounds absolutely fucking insane. Actual hysteria was getting to him.

"Maybe you should...come inside and lay down?" Julie suggests, and Frank can hear the doubt in her voice. All the progress he made down the fucking drain.

"Have you tried sleeping? I think you can sleep here. Maybe that will help." Joey adds, dropping the fabric. It falls to the ground.

Real doubt scrapes at the edges of his mind. Why  _ was _ he so certain Danny was here? Even he was here in this fog, how could he be sure Danny could even find him. The glimpses he saw, those were real right? Sure they were only flashes, and might have been tricks of the eye or even the darkness trying to fuck with him. What did that tree thing say? It will make him suffer if he wasn't good enough?

Was Ghostface a manifestation that the darkness was using to punish him? And if so what for? He was doing his hunts and doing them well. He was making sure Joey and Julie went on their hunts. Was it Susie? It wanted him to make Susie hunt?

A hand touches his shoulder and he flinches away. Julie steps back as well, obviously not wanting to rile him up more. She was treating him like a wild dog.

"Frank...maybe you should...go on a hunt? Would that help?"

Maybe it would.

The darkness calls to him, compelling him to walk into the fog. It's louder than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live mr. Ojomo so much....his new skin is so good ugh....him


	5. Lèry's Memorial Institute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're at the halfway point boys!

Frank walks the hallowed halls, trying to keep his mind off of the phantoms that swirled around the haunted house pretending to be his mind. The prey made that simple enough. There were two more little shit heads here, there was only ever four in any hunt.

The other two were swaying on hooks in some forgotten corner.

He walks past the office with the desk, and notices the stairs down to the cellar. A shudder runs through him as he hears the darkness whispers grow louder. They hadn't stopped since he got here. Only growing more and more hectic and indescribable.

Slowly he walks down the creaking stairs, shoes scraping against the concrete floor as takes a few steps into the muggy room. The chest at the far end was open. Pools of blood were on the floor, but they were being sucked away by the fog.

He rounds the small wall to his right and sticks his knife in between the ribs of the prey crouching in the corner. It screams and falls to the ground, already bleeding from another wound on its side. There was nothing clutched in its hands, so he starts towards the armoire at the far end of the room.

He yanks the doors open only to see a few axes in the back. The darkness growls to him as a creak sounds from behind, and he whirls to see a girl running out of the locker and bolting for the stairs. Warmth pulses through Frank's hands and he gives chase. The other girl had managed to crawl to the steps, and the braided girl had paused to grab her and help her up to the surface.

The darkness howls at him to move faster and faster. He stabs his knife into the braided girls liver. Causing it to fall with a scream of agony. The smaller girl hits the ground heavily and whimpers.

This shit was too easy.

Frank hefts the shorter of the two onto his shoulder. Most prey was shockingly light, but there was some sort of logic to it. The bigger ones and that cowboy boot bitch were a pain to carry. This one was light as a feather. She starts to squirm as he grabs the other victim by the hair and starts dragging her down the steps back into the cellar.

The darkness calls to him, louder than his own thoughts. Sounds filling his mind and practically leaks out of his eyes. He can't tell if the words are of praise or rage. They simply scream.

He drops the girl onto the hook, heat from the floor, burning through the soles of his shoes as he drags the other victim to the left hook and drops it on. The darkness crescendos in his mind, causing Frank to clutch his head and groan as the human screams of agony die down. It felt as if his brain was melting in his skull. Why was he getting punished? He was doing what it wanted. Had he not killed them well enough?

Frank falls to his knees before the bodies, heat pulsing from the floor and burning his skin. The darkness was screaming at him, but he didn't know why. He couldn't decipher the meanings, the words. It wanted him to do something, but he didn't know what. The basement was so loud, ge just wanted to fucking leave.

The heat crawls up his body, flowing through his veins like lava. He forces his eyes open and looks at his hands. His flesh was glowing softly and starting to flake away. Panic flashes through him and he tries to stand. His body burns, and the darkness consumes him as the world collapses.

\---

He awakens in the Chalet, standing in the doorway. The memory of how he got here was gone but he felt fine. Besides the headache pulsing behind his eyes. Only made worse by the cries of Susie, they were so loud.

"Susie. Shut the fuck up." Frank murmurs, stepping out of the Chalet and aimlessly walking.

The hunt did nothing to put him at ease. It only made him feel worse, physically and mentally. He stops at the brick wall, running his fingers over the warm stone and walking along the perimeter. Movement was good.

Danny's wallet. He needed to find it. If he had that he could prove to the others that he was here. That Ghostface was still stalking him. He remembered throwing the thing away, and it hit a wall. The snow here wasn't real, so he should be able to see it sitting in the open. He just had to follow the wall and keep a lookout.

Frank walks through the grass and snow, staring at the ground for any sign of the worn brown leather. All the while he could hear Susie's sobs echoing in his ears. As if she was following behind him.

He walks until the stones have rubbed the skin of his hands raw and streaks of blood meld with the mortar of this prison.

He walks until he feels as if his bones are scraping bricks. This is helped by drawing his knife and dragging it along the wall instead. The steady scrape of the blade seems to lessen the sobbing that won't leave.

The wallet was gone. He couldn't find a goddamn thing. Was it even real to begin with? Was any of this real. Maybe this was the last rotting piece of his brain firing off a final hurrah before collapsing into nothing and sending anything left of himself into the abyss.

Frank knew he wasn't creative enough to torture himself like this.

The blade is shining in the dim not bright of Limbo. The bricks seemed to have polished it to a mirror sheen, not that it should be possible. The mask smiles back at him through the metal, and if he angles it just right he can see Ghostface perched on the wall above him.

Frank stops walking. He feels numb. So completely numb inside and out. Susie's cries fill the silence, and fill his body with a darkness.

He returns to the Chalet, and climbs the stairs slowly. They creak under him, and the bitter murmur of the shadows encourage him. Music drifts out from under the door.

"I hate to look into those eyes, and see an ounce of pain."

Julie's mixtape, track number three. He didn't know she had gotten back.

Frank opens the door, and comes face to face with Julie. He pushes past her, the sound of clamoring voices growing unbearable.

He walks towards Susie, and she looks up at him pitifully.

_ "Make her." _

He grabs her shoulder, and shoves her onto the ground. Ignoring Julie's yells as he yanks the hood off. Julie's nails scrape against his jacket, and he shoves her away. The noises needed to stop. The darkness told him what it wanted.

"Go." He commands. And out of the corner of his eye he sees the claws of the darkness take Julie.

His brain is a cacophony. Indecipherable screams of agony as he slips his fingers under the top of Susie's mask and tugs. She jerks away, hands beating as his coat. But the noise dulls ever so slightly.

He yanks again, finding more resistance. The edges of the mask are almost melded to the skin. Carefully Frank stick his sharpened knife between the flesh and mask, using the handle to pry the strange pale material away from the skin. He watches blood pool and pour from the tears in the tender skin but continues to pry. As he does so the body under him writhes. The noises in his head grow silent. It's a blessing.

There's a cracking noise and the mask is pulled further away. He can see the filthy tear streaked face below. Big brown eyes filled with fear, pain and tears. Blood runs down her face in rivlets, making her tears just as red.

Wires from the cracks in the mask had been superficially embedded in the skin. His prying had pulled them free from under the flesh, but that wasn't anchoring the mask to the face.

Her mouth was filled with wires. He can see four coming out from her braces and weaving into the mask. Her torn bloody lips are chapped from being forced open for god knows how long.

This was wear the most resistance was coming from.

He tugs again, pulling her head forward and shoving his hand against the other side of the mask. The wires were attached to her molars.

He takes his knife and stabs into her mouth. Popping the top left molar out with ease and a shower of blood. The right comes out just as quickly. She had stilled below him in bitter acceptance, tears flowing free from her eyes as blood and gum matter bubbles in her throat. She spits and he feels blood hit his mask. He feels warmth running down his fingers, and starts wiggling the bottom right tooth. This one was firmly in, and he has to use his knife again.

He grabs the vibrant pink and black roots in one hand and the mask in the other. With a violent tug he frees the mask from Susie's mouth, almost falling back from the force.

All sound comes back to him instantly.

He can barely hear the chorus of Sweet Child O' Mine over the sound of Susie's screams. She spits out more blood and rolls over, coughing and vomiting spit, blood, teeth, and viscera all over the floor. Frank looks at the bloody mask in his hands and Susie crawls away from him, tugging her hood up.

Two molars are still attached to the wires of the mask as it drips with blood. The darkness hums with vague interest, and he pulls his mask off. Dropping it to the floor with a clatter before putting Susie's on. 

Wa blood trails down his face and he risee. Stepping over Susie and out the door. Brushing past Joey standing at the foot of the stairs. The darkness hisses at him, and he tries to ignore its sudden anger.

A hand rests on his shoulder, and he finally looks back at Joey.

Ghostface tilts his head, and leans in. The plastic mask clicks against Susie's metal details. A hand brushes against his own, and he lets their fingers entwine. Listening to the familiar muffled sigh of joy.

The whispers stop, and Frank relaxes. He wonders if this was really Danny, or if he was really starting to become unhinged.

"Frank!" Julie's scream echoes across Ormond. Filled with rage and disgust.

That was fast.

Ghostface chuckles, other hand brushing his cheek under the mask before he pulls away and silently exits the Chalet out the bar side door.

Julie bursts in the front and grabs his shoulder, forcing him to turn towards her.

"What the fuck did you do? What the fuck Frank? Susie is-"

"Help."

Susie's voice is soft and wet. Julie pushes him aside and he can hear her run to the other.

He walks out of the chalet. No matter. It was louder now, and the creeping numbness was invading his mind again despite the insistent whispers.

Blood drips off Susie's mask as he passes Joey on the way out. Thinking of peace and quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this fic has stopped making any sense, but i will not be stopped i guess


	6. The Fog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These mmds of dbd have been making me go crazy please watch  
[this.](https://youtu.be/RPTz_yv74Kc)

Danny watches Frank circle Ormond's walls like a hawk. Like watching a tiger pace its cage at a zoo. Around and around and around he goes. Spiraling, physically and mentally.

Back to his old habits. Stress was starting to make him break down, he was isolating himself further, inflicting self harm in his own cute little ways.

Habits. Patterns.

Everyone had them.

And these were Frank's.

No doubt the Spider was calling to him now. Danny could almost hear the same whispers as Frank, being so close to the creature had its perks. It wasn't mad at Frank. If mad was the correct word to describe the emotions of a fathomless Entity. The spider was displeased with Susie. Her inability to perform seemed to bore it. The Spider wanted suffering magnified. And to get its way it had to put on pressure.

He wonders what Frank will do.

This was a pattern, after all.

He remembers the ice rink, how the Legion doubted him then. They didn't realize how truly terrified Frank had to be to confided in them despite his lone wolf leanings. It was a desperate act that only left him bitten.

Once bitten, twice shy. So the saying goes.

Danny would expect the Legion to believe their fearless leader when he talked about Ghostface in this realm. Oh the tender fear in Frank's voice when he begged them to understand. It sounded almost sincere. They all sounded almost sincere. That's what happens with teenagers.

He wonders what Frank told Joey that night to get the car. Must've been something really bad. Somethin' that would rile Joey up, get under his skin. Something that made Julie relent instantly any time he so much as hinted at that night.

Frank has such a way with people. It was incredible to watch him act in the grand play of faking humanity. Danny knew there wasn't much under that mask, that face. Just bloodlust and rage.

The man lets his guard down around him, around Ghostface. He played so tough at Jed, it was adorable and arousing how much he hated that man's guts then turned around and tried to get in Ghostface's pants.

A pattern. Anger, silence, seduction, forgiveness. And so it goes.

When Frank fell asleep in his arms while watching the Bovine house he had briefly considered strangling him for being so stupid. However, there was an innocence to his actions that made Ghostface think twice. He couldn't say the tactics didn't work on him, but he knew better than to trust bottle blondes.

The poor Legion, they were far too young to know just what monster had come to their town those years ago. 

This was interesting however. Not quite a break from Frank's usual patterns but a new development. The man walks another lap, knife brushing stone. Head down and utterly lost in his own mind.

Danny got his wallet quickly after Frank tossed it away. Stole the picture too when Frank changed to his varsity jacket. Now that was having a intetesting affect in the other, a man who felt self doubt very few times in his life was now facing the real possibility that his murder buddy wasn't here with him. Surely that night was as unforgettable to Frank as it was for Ghostface.

This turn of events was not what Danny had in mind, but interesting nevertheless. He was hoping to give Frank a long enough cooling off period so he could approach without getting knifed to death. Testing the spiders reanimation abilities was something he preferred to leave to targets. Now Frank was under the impression that he didn't make it into the realm, a worry helped along by his little legion. That wasn't part of his plan, and he didn't want Frank to think he wasn't real too long.

Teens? They never seem to learn.

Frank stops walking, and Danny jumps down from his perch. The spider immediately grinds at him to not interrupt the man, so instead Danny watches him march into the chalet. A few minutes pass before the blood curdling screams start. Danny quickly makes his way in, standing at the foot of the familiar lodge steps as he listens to the horrors going on upstairs. He can practically feel the spider writhing in pleasure at whatever was taking place up there.

He longed to see what atrocities Frank was commiting to his friend. The brutality of Frank's killings always brought a sick pleasure to him. The one time they killed together was one of his sweetest memories. Watching his sweetheart stab that man in such a perfect way to prologue his suffering before gutting him. The utter pleasure in Frank's voice made when he told him that it was his birthday had made Ghostface's stomach twist in lovely ways.

The sweet memories are interrupted as Frank stomps down the stairs and shoves past him. Danny raises his eyebrows and grabs Frank's shoulder, spinning him to be face to face. He didn't like being ignored.

Susie's bloody mask stares back at him, and he can hear Frank's muffled and labored breathing. He tilts his head curiously, not liking the brutal slashes of Susie's mask on Frank. He wanted to see the cute smile etched in blood. Danny leans in, pressing the foreheads of their masks together. Through the small slit he can see Frank's bright blue eyes staring straight through him. Cold and dead.

He missed this, he missed Frank so much. Danny takes the man's hand, feeling the ragged bloody skin through his gloves as he entwined their fingers. He's unable to hold back a sigh of joy, and asks the spider to give Frank peace. A shudder runs through the other and he feels Frank relax.

Good. He needed that association.

"Frank!"

Julie's scream of rage rips through the night, and Danny chuckles. Bringing a hand up to stroke Frank's cheek under the porcelain mask.

Soon.

He makes his escape out the side door, giving the chalet a wide berth as he jogs towards the exit. Frank shoves past Joey, and Danny knows exactly where he was heading.

\---

Haddonfield. The Haddonfield to be exact. Danny enjoyed this place during games, plenty of corners, windows, and hedges to crouch behind while examining the targets. Not to mention it was home to his favorite movie character.

Big fan, loved the big guy himself but boy was he boring to watch. Loomis wasn't kidding when he said Michael spent years waiting to kill. The Shape was standing on the porch just behind to Frank, black eyes staring directly at Danny crouched behind a white picket fence. Frank on the other hand was leaning against the railing of the Myers house, chest rising slowly and steadily as the man tried to ground himself. He was clutching Susie's mask in one hand and had a lit cigarette in his fingers.

He wonders if Frank felt remorse for his actions. It would make sense, seeing as his friends were some of the only humans to inspire anything in the man other than bloodlust and rage from his observations. The only people to consistently give him attention and love.

Michael reaches over, and taps Frank's shoulder, rousing the man from his thoughts. Dried blood covered parts of his face and hair a deep brownish color. It was absolutely beautiful. Danny doesn't notice what the Shape does after getting Frank's attention, but the man looks over at him and his eyes narrow. The mask falls out of Frank's fingers as he rises and stalks towards Danny.

Ratted out by his hero, eh? Ah well, a confrontation now was just as good as later. Frank looked angry, but not exactly murderous. Danny rises as Frank stops a few inches away, only a white picket fence between them. He waits for Frank to speak. The man was always such a damn wild card, swirling with so many emotions he couldn't even feel let alone understand. Danny wasn't about to rob himself of the joy of witnessing the show. 

"Is...that really you, Danny?" Frank's voice is barely above a whisper, but he can hear the confusion and pain in it crystal clear.

Danny nods, he had appearances to keep up after all. Frank looks away, taking a sharp breath before turning his bright eyes back and taking a hesitant step forward. His eyes narrow and Danny tilts his head curiously.

"Prove it."

The Shape steps up behind Frank, and Danny can see the knife flash under the streetlights. He darts forward, grabbing the lappel of Frank's varsity jacket and yanking him close as the knife slices down on empty air. Frank slaps his hand away and jerks back, bumping into Michael's chest who then grabs him by the throat. The hand tightens and Frank lets out a choked gasp. Anger spikes in Danny and he reaches for his knife. Frank was his.

Michael pointedly looks at the gate. Then back to Danny before letting Frank go. The meaning was clear.

"Get the fuck out."

Frank jerks away from the shape and starts down the street, raising a middle finger over his shoulder. That man really could charm anyone, huh?

Danny waves at Michael before following his obsession. Only being met with a hateful gaze as the Shape stalks back towards his home. He really should have made a better impression on the guy when he had the chance.

No time to worry about that. He had to focus. Frank was starting to get away. Danny jogs to catch up with him, as he does he pulls the mask off. Baring his face in the fog for the first time.

"Frank." He calls, causing the man to stop dead in his tracks. A smile creeps onto his lips as he approaches slowly.

"Hey, it's alright baby. I'm here now."

The mans shoulders relax. He had the kid trained like a fucking dog. Slowly he rests a hand on the man's arm keeping his touch light and comforting. He gently turns Frank around to face him, and feels his breath hitch in his throat.

It had been so long since he had seen Frank up close, without the black mesh of the mask distorting his view. The stony blue eyes stare up at him blankly as he leans down to steal a kiss.

A sharp pain radiates up his side and he cries out involuntarily, stepping back and looking down at the blood covered knife in Frank's hand. As he looks up the man rushes him, shoving his fingers into the wound and twisting. A scream rips out of Danny as he drops to the ground in agony. Breath getting knocked out of him as Frank straddles his waist and crushes his windpipe in both hands. The blade of the knife cuts his ear. He can feel the tassels of his jacket whipping around wildly.

"I hope to god you're real, so I can kill you over and over again." Frank growls, eyes electric with rage, "You fucking coward. You-"

Frank cuts off with a pained gasp. Hands going limp against his throat, allowing Danny to take a breath of air. He feels warm liquid soak into his coat from above, and looks down to see the black leg of the Spider piercing through Frank's back and out his stomach. Dark maroon blood pours from the would as Frank's grey guts writhe in the open air. Danny looks up to see the light in Frank's eyes start to fade as blood drips out of his mouth with a pained gargle.

"No...no!" Danny sits up as the leg pulls out of Frank's body and the man slumps forward into his arms. He desperately holds onto his beloved, feeling the last choking breaths and death spasms against his chest.

"Franky? Don't go honey, don't go." He whispers, clutching the man close.

A burst of warmth travels up his stab wound, flesh mending itself at the spider's whims. White hot rage hits Danny like a fucking truck, and he glares past Frank's head into the endless fog.

"What the fuck?" He hisses, "We had a deal."

The spider crackles in his mind, speaking slowly and firmly. It tells him that Frank was misbehaving too much. That removing Susie's mask wasn't what it wanted, and that stabbing him was the last straw. Frank wasn't allowed to hurt the Spider's killers anymore. As it speaks the body of Frank literally fades away in his arms.

"Give him back. He's mine. You promised." Danny hisses into the endless grass. climbing to his feet and wishing there was an physical entity he could direct his anger at. He feels warmth dance along his skin to the beat of his anger. In his clenched fist something forms.

When he opens his hand a black skull sits in his palm. The heat of the charm burns his skin through the thick leather glove, and the Spider tells him to go kill. When he gets back, Frank would be waiting.


	7. Badham Preschool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this ones kinda short, but we do meet a very, very fun character

Frank's stomach throbs and twists, the guts and skin slowly mending itself as heat courses through his body. It feels as if he's literally burning alive from the inside out. Worse than any fever, and sickness he had ever felt.

Slowly the heat starts to fade away, pain dropping to a dull throb, then to nothing.

Blessed silence fills his mind. The darkness couldn't get him here, or at least he was being left alone for now. Slowly he cracks his eyes open and looks around. The pain of death was still fresh in his mind and he really could use a distraction from that. Who could've thought attacking Danny would get him killed? Fucker must be buddy buddy with the darkness. Though he still hasn't given up the theory that this is a convoluted last gasp of his dying brain on the cold snowy Ormond dirt.

The last few...hours? Events? He feels fuzzy and out of place. The memories are more like waves than concrete in his mind. Whatever state he had found himself in he didn't want to return to it. The throbbing haze and pain. He had to stay grounded, he needed to be sure of himself.

This was no place for cowards.

Frank stands, feeling surprisingly alright for coming back from the dead. The thought makes him shudder. Only a few breaths ago he had been dead. His last sight was Danny's mortified face before everything went black and numb.

Numbness. Nothing. Life. Death. Limbo.

Why was it all the same to him?

A creak on the steps pulls Frank out of his head, and he pushes away all doubts. Crouching down he peeks around the corner of the room he's in and towards the stairs. He was at the other neighborhood, the one with that preschool. Odd place to appear after death, shouldn't he be at Ormond? And this realm seemed different somehow. Outside the broken window he could see leaves swirling in the non-existent wind. He could also see the open exit. Time to get the fuck out of dodge.

He jumps the window and lands on the ground, ambling towards the entrance. Feeling a strange breeze on his bare face that reminded him of his mask and how he had left it back at the Chalet....no he left it with the shape, right? Being without it made him feel a touch vulnerable, but he would have it back soon.

Legs of the darkness rise from the soil of the fields, and block the exit. The same way they do in hunts.

Figures.

Frank turns around and comes face to hat with a man. He takes a step back in surprise as the man looks up and glares at him. Recognition lights up in his mind.

"Freddy Krueger?"

The man's brutally burned and horrific face twists into a look of shock. It certainly didn't look like the Kruger Frank had seen in the movies. The boils on his face were about to burst with puss, and he could see teeth through the ripped hole in his cheek. But he remembered that sweater and hat.

"How do you-? Nevermind." Freddy growls out, taking a few steps back and looking Frank up and down with a scowl, "You're not a survivor, are you?"

"No. Are you like, actually Freddy Kruger? Died in a fire and all?"

Freddy nods curtly, still giving Frank a glare that could melt metal. He decides not to push his luck too much. Those movies were Julie's favorite but he had seen them enough to have an idea of who he was dealing with. Though he thought Freddy would be....taller?

"Are we in...Springfield?"

"Springwood."

Cool. He's never been to America before. Although this doesn't really count does it? Frank looks Freddy up and down, noticing that he wasn't wearing his glove and feeling a bit disappointed.

"Where's your glove?" Frank asks, enjoying the annoyed twitch in the mans mangled face.

Freddy reaches behind him and presumably pulls it out of his back pocket. The blades glitter in the odd light with a dark menace. It looked so much cooler in real life.

"Can I-"

"No. Shut the fuck up for a second." The man snaps, hiding the cool weapon away and crossing his arms, "Why are you here. What did you do to piss it off?"

"Piss what off?"

"The Entity."

Frank feels a pulse in his mind and almost shudders at the words. A primal part of his mind shakes at the true name of the darkness keeping them trapped in here. As true as an unfathomable creature can be named.

"Why you askin', Toasty?" Frank deflects, hoping to rile the man up with the insult only to be left with a cold gaze.

"Why would you think the darkness is even pissed at me? You don't know me." He continues, crossing his arms in an attempt to look intimidating.

"It only sends creatures here to punish them."

"Aww, are you really that bad at small talk Freddy?" Frank coos mockingly.

"How old are you?"

Frank frowns and glances around. He doesn't like the way that question was asked.

"Twenty three." He lies.

"Too old." He mutters to himself.

With that the man turns away and starts walking back towards the neighborhood, specifically to the preschool. The blades of the glove peek out of his back pocket. There was something insidious about those small actions that made him want to get the fuck outta here faster. The last thing he wanted to do was feel like prey. A looks back to confirm the darkness still blocking the exist and jogs after Freddy. Might as well make a nuisance of himself to another horror icon.

"Hey, wait! Kruger!"

The man glances back, and slows ever so slightly. Frank takes this opportunity to try and learn something about where he is.

"So like, why am I here? Are you the darknesses bitch or somethin', eh?"

The man laughs as if Frank had told a joke instead of insulting him. He shakes his head and sighs.

"No. I'm not the Entity's bitch. I'm its dirty little fucking secret." Freddy growls. Frank notices the fingers of his right hand twitching.

"The Entity likes to bait me. Tryin' to get me to do what it wants."

Frank tilts his head, falling in step next to the man, "So what do you not go on hunts?"

"I participate in trials, yes." Freddy replies, turning sharply after passing through the door and walking down a flight of steps into a dim basement. Frank follows behind.

"So what does it want you to do then?" Frank asks. He was starting to like Freddy. Wasn't as funny as he remembered, but he was new. Interesting.

Freddy suddenly stops in the middle of the boiler room. The air becomes hotter and wet with bloodlust. Freddy's fingers twitch as he turns to look at Frank. He sees a dirty, sadistic kind of evil in those disgusting green eyes. Utterly fucking depraved, and that was coming from him. There was nothing in them but cruelty.

"I would do unimaginable things to you, kid." The man growls through his ruined vocal cords, "Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind."

He doesn't need to be told twice. Unfortunately Frank already tried to get the fuck out and it obviously didn't work.

"How do I leave?"

"Wake up."

Frank glares at him, "How the fuck do I do that, eh?"

A twisted mockery of a smile claws itself onto Freddy's mangled face. He watches a pure kind of sadism light up those eyes, and shudders.

"Figure it out, bitch." Freddy laughs and walks deeper into the boiler room. Rotten cackle echoing around the basement to a chorus of steaming pipes.

Maybe he wasn't starting to like Freddy much. He quickly climbs the steps out of the boiler room to the exit of the preschool. The streets were empty. Now that he was looking for it he noticed a sort of dream like quality to his surroundings. Falling leaves aside he notices that things further away from him seem to shift and warble. His steps felt heavy and his mind was having trouble focusing. What a shitty ass dream.

Frank tries to remember anything he could about the movie. He really liked the first one personally, all the others were over the top and boring. Julie would know how to deal with this shit, she liked all those shitty sequels. Shit if Freddy was here does that mean Nancy is here too? He would love to meet her in the fog somewhere. Hopefully he hasn't killed her already. Maybe they could shoot the shit. Then again the odds of her being Heather were about as high as that short stack in the basement being Robert Englund.

This place couldn't even get the good horror Icons. Where the fuck was Billy? Hell he almost wishes Candyman was here to make Joey cream his pants. Frank sighs and tries to focus on the task at hand. He didn't want to get torn to shreds so soon after getting his guts ripped out. Whatever pride was keeping Freddy docile was wearing thin and Frank doubted he could talk his way out of that one. He had to wake the fuck up.

He had a feeling a pinch wouldn't be enough to do the trick. In the movie Nancy burnt herself on a pipe and woke up, shouldn't be too hard to do. Frank pulls his cigarettes from his pocket and his lighter. In a familiar practiced motion he lights a cigarette and inhales. Strangely the chemical rush of nicotine hits him like a truck, causing him to cough in shock. The taste of bitter tobacco is in his mouth and it felt like years since he last felt it. He stares at the burning embers in a mix of elation and horror. This wasn't a creation of the darkness. This wasn't a cosmic being mocking human addiction. This was a real honest to god feeling.

Horror dawns on Frank ad he realizes just what that means. This wasn't the Foggy fields, this wasn't fake. This dream was real. Against all odds he was outside of the darkness and in a deeper hell. If he died here, it was forever.

Fuck this. Fuck the fog, the darkness the...

Entity. Whatever it was. Fuck Danny for bringing him in here and for getting him killed. Fuck Freddy, fuck everything.

Frank sits with his back against a tree, and enjoys his fucking cigarette. When that one dies he smokes through two more, before pressing the burning embers onto the back of his hand.

\- -

He opens his eyes to find himself at Ormond again, curled up in a ball of vulnerability. Truly life's beginning and end. Frank sits up noticing that the darkness dropped him off at the top of the observatory tower. A slight ping of discomfort in his hand tells him that yeah, dream shit was still real world shit. The darkness whispers at him softly, telling him that he was no longer in trouble. For now.

Figures Danny would be a fucking teachers pet.

Curiously he unbuttons his varsity jacket and lifts the shirt up to look at his stomach. The skin was smooth and pale. His snake tattoos tail curled around his navel and up his chest the same way it always has, always does. He runs his fingers over the ink scales with a strange sense of awe.

The feeling of his organs getting torn out. The way his spine was broken into pieces as the spike rammed through his back and how his legs immediately went numb from the impact. Those feelings were still fresh. The pain and agony had driven out every thought in his mind expect for suffering. He couldn't even scream his brain was so fucking broken.

There was one other thing that had engraved itself in Frank's mind. It was the look of utter shock and fear on Danny's face, and the pain in his voice as Frank slipped away. There was no way Danny planned that, he wasn't that good of a fucking actor.

_ "Franky? Don't go honey, don't go." _

He shudders at the words as they echo through his head. They were the last things he had heard before he slipped away, the last thing he felt was Danny's arms holding him. The desperation in the man's voice made Frank's heart beat fast. If his guts had not been in the dirt he was sure his stomach would've twisted in the moment. Whatever fucking feeling that had been hiding away inside him was starting to rear its ugly head.

Fuck Danny for making him feel so numb, and so full of life all at once. If that man said the words Frank dreaded, he wouldn't be able to take the cat and mouse games anymore.

At least now he knew Danny was here, and wasn't a hallucination. The thought comforted him slightly now that the initial rage of his betrayal was fading into distant memory. If he was gonna be trapped in this place forever he might as well have someone who likes murder as much as he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im working on the last chapter rn and boy...its comin


	8. Crotus Prenn Asylum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We on x games mode now

It takes a bit for Frank to get the confidence to jump down from the watchtower. The reason they never fucked around up here back home was because it was so tall. The ladder had rusted away years ago, so the only way up was climbing the tetanus infested remains of the ladder legs or the rotting wooden support beams. Susie had managed to get up there once and dropped down a rope ladder. The thing shook so hard at any sizable breeze they never tried going up there again out of fear they'd actually die in the fall.

Good memories.

The look out tower was sturdy as a tree here, however. Carefully Frank makes his way down the wooden legs and drops onto the snow below. He stumbles and falls flat on his ass with a grunt. Thankfully no one was around to see as he stands and wipes snow off himself. Without anything better to do Frank heads over to the Chalet in search of the others. Not like they could go anywhere else. His mind was blissfully quiet of the darkness and ghosts. The events of a few moments ago feeling like some distant half forgotten dream. Which was probably more accurate than not.

They could sleep here, they just didn't want to start dreaming.

A beat drifts on the empty air towards Frank as he approaches the building. He recognizes the song instantly, No More Questions. One of Joey's favorites. R&B wasn't Frank's preferred music style, but Joey was always eager to please and never failed to find songs Frank could stomach.

"Joey?" He calls, causing the music to immediately stop. The man in question seems to rise out of the shadow of the doorway and the white skull of his mask stares at him impassively.

"Hey man, where's-"

"Gone."

Frank stops at the curt reply, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed without his mask on while Joey wore his. He had to be very careful with his facial expressions. Since wearing the mask constantly he had fallen out of habit with keeping up appearances.

"Gone?" He asks, throwing in a little frown of curiosity. Joey brown eyes peer down at him, shoulder tense and hands fidgeting with his walkman.

"They...Frank you...." Joey sighs and crosses his arms, "What the fuck man? You think you can just waltz back in here after what you did?"

Oh right, that thing. It was pretty damn fucked up even he had to admit. But it's not like he did it because he wanted to. The darkness was practically lashing at his back, forcing him to act or bear the burden of endless mind numbing silence. A haunting all consuming static of nothing that made every vein in his body pulse and throb with fucking agony. A few pulled teeth, a stab wound, proof of Ghostface, and one untimely death was a small price to pay for some peace of mind. But Joey wouldn't understand that. He wasn't a leader, just an obedient follower. A good friend. Maybe this was his line in the sand.

No, Frank could talk his way out of this.

"What?" He asks, feigning ignorance, "I didn't do anything."

Something snaps in Joey and the walkman clatters to the ground as his hands dart out and grab the lapels of Frank's jacket. He's almost surprised at how easily Joey yanks him around and shoves him against the wall of the chalet. Although the manhandling was noticeably gentler than he deserved, his back barely hurt from the impact. Nevertheless he puts on a pained expression and feins surprise as he grabs Joey's wrist.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? I went to the fucking trial and-"

"You mangled Susie's face! You almost ripped her fucking jaw off Frank! And you...you just...left her there to bleed! You fucking monster!"

Guilt paws at his mind like a sickly cat, and Frank doubles down. Shutting his feelings off to what little scruples of emotions he felt besides rage and complacency.

He puts on a mask.

"What?" There's a well practiced crack in his voice as he loosens his grip on Joey's arms. He tries to will tears to his eyes but he never quite got the hang of that.

"You...you honestly don't...remember?" Joey asks, horror slipping into his voice.

"No...no. I finished the trial in the basement and...you know how it is down there. The darkness is so loud and its so fucking hot I just...I don't know. I couldn't move and I thought I heard him and then it all kinda went black and-and-and..." He starts to choke up, rambling and raving as hysterically as he can. He can feel Joey's rage waver. Perfect.

His hands drop to his sides and he lowers his head in shame.

"What...did I do?"

"...Frank you ripped her mask off. It was was attached to her teeth. You...you ripped her fucking teeth out man."

He slowly draws his knife out of the holster at his back, and stabs the blade through his palm. A sob rips through him as pain flares up and tears start to fall. The knife is sheathed as fast as he had taken it out and he covers his face with an uninjured hand.

It takes Joey fifteen seconds to break and pull him into a hug. A whole seven seconds longer than expected. He grips the thick fabric of the man's neon jacket, sending throbs of pain up his arm and drawing more tears. The hug is alright, Frank wasn't one for physical contact but as long as it kept Joey at his side it was worth it. He could win over Julie soon enough. Susie might be a lost cause, but that's fine. Break a few eggs and all. She was just a wet blanket anyway. He lets himself catch his breath and prepares to extract himself from Joey until someone catches his eye.

Ghostface stands less than ten feet away from the two. Blood was splashed over the mask and literally dripping off his gloves. The tassles whip gently in the windless air as the man's chest rises and falls with slow steady breaths.

Fuck.

This wasn't good.

Slowly Ghostface reaches up and pulls the mask off, he tucks it into his belt before unfolding a pair of glasses and putting them on. A cruel smile appears on the man's face as he starts to approach.

"Joey." Jed calls, causing the man to stiffen.

Joey pulls away and whirls around, drawing his knife and stepping in front of Frank. Of fucking course this piece of shit knew just when to throw a rock in his plans. Maybe if the dumb asshole waited a few minutes then he could've talked to him alone without his brain melting from the darkness and paranoid delusions.

"Get the fuck out of here, Jed." Joey warns, raising the knife menacingly.

Jed just smiles, although it looks more like a wolf baring its teeth. Frank really didn't want Joey to die at the hands of Ghostface. The guy was a bastard and would make him suffer.

God what the fuck had his life come to? A fucked up gay drama where two morons fought over him? This was stupid. Then again he dug himself into this pit, now he had to pick his fucking poison, eh?

He grabs Joey's shoulder and pulls him back. Stepping forward and facing Jed. It was time for him to grow the fuck up. He can't have his cake and eat it too.

It was either be a psycho killer duo or control his Legion.

Be in control or fight for it in a constant tug of war.

The darkness whispers to him, urging him forward. It tells him that he was making the right choice.

"Frank get-"

"Joey, Joey, Joey!" Jed interrupts, staring past Frank with a manic look in his eyes, "Not surprised to see you here! Having fun following Franky to your death?"

He can hear the slightest intake of breath from Joey tries not to roll his eyes.

"Don't be mad baby, it's not your fault he won't fuck you!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Joey yells, taking a step forward and bumping Frank's shoulder as charges towards Jed like a fucking moron.

Jed laughs as he ducks under Joey's blade. Frank takes this opportunity to threaten the man.

"If you hurt him I'll never touch you again."

Joey turns to look at him in confusion while Jed just lets out a low laugh.

That man was a lot of things, but he wasn't a complete monster.

"You drive a hard bargain, Frank." Jed muses aa he rises to his feet and takes a few steps back from Joey.

Frank dug his grave, now all he had to do was lay in it. The others were better off without him anyway. He was acting too off, too dangerous. Sure he dragged them to this hell and made them commit atrocities, but he was no devil. Not to them, never to them.

The darkness coils around his mind as he approaches Jed. Hatred steaming away from him before it can set in. It feels right, however. It feels...nice.

"Take those glasses off. You look like a fag."

He walks past the man and towards the gate. After years of saying he was going to get out of Ormond, it was time to finally do it. Too little, too late yes. But he made his choice.

The darkness sings in agreement.

Frank was committing the first, and only selfless act of his entire life. And such kindness would never be forgiven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9 is gonna be Really Long but i know itll be worth it. I might...post it...early...if yall want


	9. Red Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This...is a long one boys. Buckel up

Danny was not in a very good fucking mood. He stalked through the wet rainy woods and stewed in his rage. Still playing the game of course, but only about half way into it.

So close. He had been so fucking close. Sure Frank was in some sort of psychotic fugue state, but so what the man had stabbed his goddamn kidney. That shit didn't matter because he had  _ him. _

To feel Frank's hands on him had been absolutely ecstasy, and the Spider ripped him away just like that. Just because Franky was having trouble taking directions.

For the first time in Danny's entire existence he didn't derive any joy from watching the life drain out another humans eyes.

A flash of white catches his eye as Office Boy creeps past him. The man was only a few feet away and hasn't seen him yet. Must be the rain on his glasses. Danny watches him walk to the boarded walls and start to carefully dismantle one of the miniature bone shrines. Personally Danny had no idea what those were for, but the targets liked to waste time breaking them for some reason. As the desk jockey does this Danny slips into one of the red wardrobes and waits.

The shrine falls to bits and the man smiles to himself, turning and approaching the generator a few feet away. He waits until Office Boy is inches from the wardrobe before leaping out and driving his knife into the man's shoulder. There's a loud yelp as he scrambles back, turning to run away but slipping in the wet grass. Ankle taking a nasty little twist as the man backs against the boarded walls. Rendered helpless by his own panic. It made Danny feel a bit better to watch him squirm.

He stands over him for a few seconds before kneeling down. The warm rain has soaked through the targets shirt and clothes, fogging up the thick glasses entirely. Danny reaches out and slips them off his face, folding them and carefully sliding them in an inner pocket.

Danny always liked how he looked in glasses. A real shame he never needed them.

Office Boy looks older without specs, more haunted. Dark deep circles under his big teary eyes. Danny basks in his fear for a few moments before reaching down and pulling a pen out of the breast pocket of the collared shirt. He retrieves his notebook the dry depths of his overcoat and pens a quick message.

He learned quickly that no one is allowed to talk during games. Targets can't talk to each other, and he can't talk to them. They can only scream and cry. He assumes this man isn't illiterate, and writing doesn't seem to be against the rules.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Written in bright red ink. He wasn't a fan of the red, but it fit the mood.

The man leans in to read, squinting hard despite how close it was. Poor guy must be blind as a bat. His eyes widen in shock and the dart up to meet his mask. Danny tilts his head, knowing damn well the man can't answer. A small whimper leaves his mouth and Danny grins as he tucks the notebook back into his pocket.

The pen is light in his hands. It's an expensive fountain pen, with those metal tips that make writing a real dream. Danny never bothered with them, preferring cheap disposable ones instead. No use chewing up a thirty dollar pen.

The metal tip sinks smoothly into Office Boy's eye. A guttural scream of pain rips through the drizzling forest. Danny twists the pen around a bit before pulling it out. Yanking the brown eyeball out of its socket in two squishy parts. Office Boy starts thrashing around, hands instinctively reaching up to cover the gaping hole that had once been his right eye. Ghostface grabs his hair and bashes the man's skull into the wooden wall. Not hard enough to knock him out of course. Only hard enough to get him to sit still.

The pen sinks into the left eye just as easily. Danny wonders how deep he has to push before hitting the man's brain. It couldn't be that far, could it?

He places his thumb on the butt of the pen and slowly pushes down. The cries of pain die to sweet resigned whimpers and yelps before he spasms violently one last time and stills. The spider coos in his mind as he stands and leaves the mutilated body slumped against the wall.

That felt nice. It made him feel a lot better. Now he needed to find the other three.

\- -

"I'm gonna go to sleep now, okay? You can stay if you wanna." Frank slurs out. It's so strange to hear him like this. So soft and unguarded.

The man entwines their fingers lightly, and Danny watches the angelic face relax as sleep finally overtakes him.

Poor guy slept less than he did, and Danny worked a full time job.

Careful not to release Frank's hand he pulls a Polaroid camera from the depth of his overcoat. As much as he enjoyed his digital one it was hard to get the photos printed inconspicuously. He had a guy for it in Philly, though.

He snaps an image of Frank's peaceful face and their intertwined hands. The camera quickly spits out a photo and he tucks it away in a pocket to develop. Frank shifts at the noise and his hand falls away as he rolls over onto his back. Danny's eyes trail over Frank's body hungrily. It was rare he got such a nice view, though hindered slightly by the mesh of his eyeholes.

Cautiously he draws the curtains closed and checks the lock on the door again. Putting the desk chair under the knob for good measure. This was a risky move, but what was life without a little thrill?

Danny slides his mask off and sets it on Frank's nightstand. Right next to the man's own grinning mask. He unbuttons his coat as well, laying it over the seat of the chair before he sits on the edge of the bed.

The feeling of being exposed makes his skin crawl. This was stupid, it wasn't just a cheap thrill that he could indulge in. If Frank woke up he was a dead man. Danny couldn't trust him. Not when he was so outwardly hostile to Jed. Frank wasn't under his thumb yet.

After tonights murder Frank would never be able to get away from him.

The man lets out a soft snore, shifting in bed and causing his shirt to ride up. Baring a tantalizing strip of skin.

Danny wasn't a complete monster, but he would indulge himself from time to time.

He takes his gloves off and presses his hand against Frank's hip, slowly sliding the mans loose shirt up to reveal his pale chest. There was a surprisingly decent looking snake tattoo on the mans chest, the tail curved around his navel as it slithered up his stomach and sternum. The head of the snake hisses up towards his throat and Danny can't resist running his fingers over the soft skin. He can feel the steady beat of Frank's heart, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. The small signs of life are utterly entrancing. He rests one hand next to Frank's head to support his weight as he leans over the man's sleeping form, and the other hand he lays gently over Frank's heart. Feeling life blood pulse in veins.

Danny stares at Frank until he can hear birds chirping outside.

\- -

The Fog here is alive. And it tells him that he needs to go to Frank. The spider tells him he did well. He's done so well and he can go collect his overdue reward. Blood drips onto the grass as the familiar shape of Ormond's gate emerges from the murky haze.

This time, he wasn't going to lose him.

Snow crunches under his boots while he walks. Distant sobbing floats on the air as he admires the tall dark figure embracing Frank. He would love to paint the walls red with Joey's blood. Such a fucking tragedy of a kid. So easily fooled by crocodile tears and the promise of love and adoration.

You don't get that shit for free. You had to earn it. You had to fucking force it.

Frank sniffles and looks up, eyes widening in shock as they land on Ghostface. He smiles under the mask, genuinely happy to see life in those beautiful baby blues. Good to know the spider's reanimation abilities worked like a charm.

Danny pulls off the mask and tucks it into his belt before pulling out the glasses he had taken earlier and putting them on. He had popped the lenses out during the game. Slowly he starts to approach.

"Joey!" He calls out, feeling delight as the man stiffens and spins to face him. The way he still tries to protect Frank. As if he was an actual fucking threat.

"Get the fuck out of here, Jed." Joey yells, raising his knife threateningly.

Jed just smiles at the young man. He wonders just how much time had passed outside the realm before they got in. How much did Joey know about him, about what he and Frank had done. Oh god he would  _ kill _ to know what the papers said after that night. Was Frank a martyr or a monster?

Frank grabs Joey's shoulder and yanks him back. Jed notices blood dripping off the man's left hand, which would explain the tears that had been streaming down his face.

Frank get-" The man says, reaching out to pull Frank back again.

"Joey, Joey, Joey!" Jed interrupts, barely holding back a manic giggle as he meets the mans glare, "Not surprised to see you here! Having fun following Franky to your death?"

He watches Joey's body stiffen in shock before raising his knife in anger. The utter rage is so fucking hilarious. After all the shit Frank put him through the guy was still so enamoured by a bottle blonde twink that wouldn't put out for him.

"Don't be mad baby, it's not your fault he won't fuck you!" Jed coos, watching his words instantly drive Joey into a frenzy.

"Shut the fuck up!" Joey screams, rushing past Frank and charging head on towards Jed. He can feel the Spider feasting on the rage of the youth.

Jed laughs as he ducks under Joey's blade easily. He's tempted to draw his knife and cut his Achilles heel when Frank speaks up.

"If you hurt him I'll never let you touch me again." Frank says, voice cold and brutal.

He always seemed to underestimate just how well Frank knew him. Maybe the man didn't understand how twisted his brain truly was, the utter depths of depravity Danny had let himself fall into so young. Frank doesn't know him so much as understands that there was something he always held as a moral high ground in him.

He was a lot of things, but he wasn't a complete monster. If his believed said no, it was a no. He remembers how it felt to be forced upon.

"You drive a hard bargain, Frank." Jed replies, rising and taking a few steps back from Joey.

Frank walks towards him and Jed can see a glassy look in his eye. Every step he takes Jed can hear the Spider whispering to Frank. Telling him he was doing a good job, and making the right choice. He can feel the legs of the creature morphing Frank's mind, making him relax as he looks Jed up and down.

"Take those glasses off. You look like a fag." Frank snaps before marching past Jed and towards the gate.

Danny pulls the glasses off and drops them to the ground. He looks over at Joey and can't help but give him a smug smile. The poor boy looks like his entire earth had been shattered.

"Better luck next time, kiddo." Danny whispers, stepping close enough to lean into the man's personal space. Meeting those brown horror filled eyes with his own.

"Frank likes it rough." He adds before patting Joey's cheek, smearing blood on the other man's cheek. The shocked eyes bore holes into him as he waves and follows in Frank's footsteps.

Frank was long gone but the spider opened the fog up to him quickly. Danny was ecstatic to have him back for real this time. Now he spots the lone figure standing in the fields with his arms crossed, staring up into the endless murky sky. Danny finds himself at a loss for words. No more games. The struggle for dominance was over.

It was just him, Frank, and the fog.

Danny had won in the end.

"Why." Frank says, refusing to turn towards him, "Why the fuck are you like this?"

Good question.

"I don't know anymore than you do, Franky." He replies truthfully.

Sure he could probably figure that shit out. Sit in Doc's office and let all his childhood baggage and festered teenage angst bullshit. Did he go wrong the day he was born? Was his lot in life decided from his first breath, or was it when he realized making people hurt made him feel good. That watching life drain from the eyes after he spent weeks getting to know every aspect of their personal life filled him with elation.

Maybe if he wasn't so good at pretending to be normal someone could have helped him become human.

"You're a real piece of work." Frank laughs bitterly and finally turns to face him. The man crosses his arms and smiles at Danny, though it's more of a grimace.

It makes Danny's heart flutter. Slowly he walks towards Frank, watching him carefully for any signs of aggression or unwillingness. The man stands firm, blue eyes staring at him blankly as he reaches out and pulls the man into a tight hug. Waiting patiently for a knife in the back.

"You win." Frank whispers into his ear.

"I know."

He runs his hands down Frank's back, hooking his fingers in the tacky belt and tugging him closer. Danny nuzzles Frank's neck and lets himself bask in the company of his beloved. After a few moments he can feel Frank lean into him and rest his head against his shoulder. The spider buzzes in his mind once more before its presence lessens and the tassels on his coat drop down to drift their feet.

"Why is it so quiet around you?" Frank asks hands reaching over to mess with one of the strips of cloth.

"The Spider likes me." Danny replies, running his hand through Frank's hair. Leaving flakes of dried blood in the light strands.

"Spider? That's what you call it, eh?" Frank says with a snort, "Stupid name."

Danny shrugs, "It looks like a spider's legs. Would you rather I call it Pennywise?"

"What?"

"You should read more." He chides playfully ruffling Frank's hair.

"Fuck off." Frank snaps, looking up at Danny to give him a halfhearted glare.

He smiles in return and runs a hand slowly down Frank's cheek. His fingers trail over the grinning skull slowly and he can feel Frank's steady pulse as he wraps his hand around the man's neck. Resting his thumb on the jugular and feeling a small hitch in Frank's breath.

"What do you want?"

"Put on a show for me, sweetheart."

The man lets out a slow breath before unzipping his leather jacket and shrugging it off. Danny gently runs his thumb over the man's windpipe, enjoying the way Frank bites his lip as he starts unbuttoning the grey hoodie to reveal a black shirt underneath. He looks up to see Frank's icy blue eyes hadn't left his face, and he smiles. There's no change in the others expression when Danny leans in and presses their lips together. As always Frank's lips were chapped and particularly uninviting. A few seconds pass before Frank returns the kiss, unskilled lips moving against his own. He hears the second jacket drop to the ground and takes that as a sign to push further.

Moving quickly Danny kicks Frank's legs out, earning a yelp of shock as he releases his neck and lets the man drop to the ground. Danny crouches over Frank before he can get up or move away. Hastily straddling the man's thighs before grasping his neck with both hands. Frank frowns at him in confusion and Danny cuts off his air supply with a firm squeeze.

"You can do better than a halfhearted strip tease."

Frank's expression darkens at the challenge and he reaches out to fumble with the buckles on Danny's coat. He loosens his grip slightly to let Frank breath before tightening again. The pink blush that rose to his cheeks was absolutely exquisite. Cold damp bandaged hands run down Danny's chest, pawing at his dark shirt innocently as Frank's blush goes from a cute flush to a darker red. He releases the pressure and Frank starts gasping for air. What a pretty sight.

"Lift your shirt." Danny orders, only to receive a defiant glare from Frank.

"Don't get smart with me."

The man rolls his eyes in that put upon way young adults are so good at and meekly tugs his shirt up to his ribs.

"Higher."

Frank huffs and pulls his shirt up past his nipples, glaring at Danny the whole process.

"Good boy." He murmurs, feeling the breath hitch in Frank's throat through the gloves as he leans in.

He can feel Frank's soft breaths on his lips as he stares into his eyes. Pinpointing desire and rage in the baby blues.

"Touch yourself."

"What? I'm not-"

He squeezes, cutting off Frank's protest and air in one go. The action draws a soft whimper from the man, and after a few hesitant seconds Frank awkwardly runs a hand over his pale chest. Danny relents slightly, allowing Frank to breath as he watches the man gently brush over his nipple and bite his lip. Danny didn't even have to tell him to do that.

"Good boy. Now unbutton your pants."

The man squirms under him, running his hands over his stomach before undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Frank stops there with a steely glare, which is only a little menacing considering the noticeable bulge Frank was sporting. Danny had barely even touched him but he knew exactly what his words were doing. Franky loved attention and Danny was happy to lavish it upon him. He stares at the man, gently running his thumbs over the skull on his windpipe. Frank's heart is hammering in his chest but the man's face is as blank and cold as ever. Danny winks, and the blue eyes immediately flick away.

"What do you want you fucking freak." Frank snaps. It's about time he learned that Danny could wait forever if he wanted to.

"Touch yourself."

"No."

Danny crushes Frank's windpipe with his thumbs. Causing the man to start coughing and thrashing. Bloody hands claw at Danny's gloves as he strangles Frank. Feeling the pulse flutter the same as it always does when someone brushes deaths hands.

"Wrong answer." He growls, increasing the pressure and listening to Frank wheeze. Soon enough Frank stops his useless struggling and shoves a hand down his pants.

"That's much better." Danny coos, releasing the man's throat and watching him gasp.

"What the fuck?" Frank snarls, voice raspy and pained.

"You remember the safeword, don't you Franky? If you wanna stop just say it."

The man's eyes widen, and he glances down between them before meeting his eyes again. Danny raises his eyebrows, letting Frank's silence speak for him.

"Thought so."

For once Frank doesn't respond with a snarky comment or string of curses. Danny can see the anger rolling under the waves of his expression. He licks his lips and enjoys the power he holds over the feral beast.

"You know what to do, Franky."

The man shifts under him and Danny sits up. Keeping his hands loosely wrapped around Frank's pale neck as he enjoys the sight before him. Frank awkwardly strokes his cock with his undamaged hand, the movement causing his hand to brush against Danny's own hardon. Moving slowly as if he was embarrassed at being watched. Though Danny knows that Frank is basking in his attention and praisal.

"You're such a good boy, y'know that right Franky?" Danny whispers, watching as a pink flush tints Frank's neck and cheeks. Bruises were already starting to form where Danny's fingers rested.

"Moan for me, will you?"

A small smile creeps onto Frank's lips, and Danny shivers in anticipation of disobedience.

"Make me." Frank's dark voice is firm and threatening.

He loved a challenge. Danny runs his hands down Frank's throat, lovingly tracing the defined collarbones before moving past the bunched fabric of his black shirt. Frank is resolutely silent but he can hear his breaths pick up.

"Don't stop." Danny snaps when he feels mans hand slows down. Earning another eye roll from Frank.

"You're disgusting." Frank hisses, keeping up a surprisingly straight face as Danny pinches his nipples.

"What can I say, I like to watch." Danny replies, running his fingers slowly over Frank's ribs.

"Especially when it's you." Danny adds, dropping his tone to the one he usually used on the phone.

Frank's reaction is instant. The man bites his lip to hold in a lovely little noise and looks away. Taking a breath before glancing back at Danny. Looks like Franky liked a dirty talker. Lucky for him Ghostface could get downright nasty.

"You acted so innocent when we fucked. Choking on my cock and everything. Was that real Franky? You really never blown a guy before?" Ghostface asks playfully, gripping Frank's hips and holding him down as he unconsciously bucks into his hand.

"Never have." Frank grits out, lust starting to break through the facade of calm.

"But you let yourself get fucked like some whore?" Ghostface drops the playful tone to a finely tempered edge and grabs a chunk of his short hair and yanking it back as hard as he can. Earning him a pained hiss and glare.

"Was it even good? Taking it from some no name fuck boy?" He whispers, running his other hand up Frank's side. The man was breathing harder now, and he could feel the stuttering rhythm as he jerked himself off.

"N-not really." Frank replies, stuttering slightly as he bites back another noise, "B-But don't flatter yourself too much, Danny. The bar was low."

"Oh Franky did you think I'd forget the way you moaned for me?" Ghostface whispers, pressing a few light kisses to the man's bruised neck, "I remember every word, every noise you made. The way you begged me to cum inside you, and just how loud you screamed when I did."

Frank's hand bumps his stomach as it starts to move faster at his words. Ghostface moves to whisper directly in Frank's ear.

"Do you want me cum inside you again, sweetheart? Do you want me to fuck you so hard you don't even know how to scream?" He twists the hand gripping Frank's hair and smiles.

"I'll tear you apart, if you let me."

A soft, delicate moan escapes Frank along with a desperate curse. He can feel the man tensing up under him, and knows he's only moments away from orgasm.

"Stop."

Frank yanks his hand out of his jeans with another curse. He pants heavily and groans with need, turning his head away from Ghostface as if ashamed.

"Fuck." The man whispers; defeated.

"Good boy, Frank." Ghostface praises, moving to place a knee between Frank's legs and pushing it against the mans boner. This draws another moan from Frank. Seems like the man had abandoned most of his scruples of pride as he immediately starts rolling his hips against him.

"You're so needy..." Ghostface says thoughtfully, trailing a hand down to run his finger along the waistband of the men's jeans, "And such a slut."

The man whines in reply, propping himself up on his elbow and grabbing Ghostface's shirt to tug him into a rough kiss. Frank's teeth scrape against his lips and clack his own teeth. The other man's tongue worms its way into Ghostface's mouth and attempts a French kiss.

Frank was really fucking bad at this.

Ghostface pulls back as Frank nips his lip and starts to bite at his neck. He doesn't mind the pain too much, enjoying the feeling of Frank's moans against his neck as the man ruts against his leg. He runs and hand down Frank's chest, moving to pull the mans cock out of his jeans to give him some relief when the man lets out a barely stifled moan and tenses in his arms. He pulls his hand away and Frank lets out a growl, biting Ghostface's neck so hard he can feel his skin break.

"I fucking hate you." Frank hisses against his jugular, hands pushing his coat off his shoulders.

"Sure you do." Ghostface purrs, leaning back to shrug off his coat.

He watches Frank's blood stained hands trail down his chest and slide under his shirt, nails scratching at his chest.

"Unbutton my pants." He orders, happy to take a backseat for this.

Frank grabs his belt and unbuckles it, stopping with his thumbs resting on the button. A snarky grin spreads on Frank's face, leaving Danny breathless.

"Beg."

A small breath escapes Danny, and he wonders where the fuck Frank had been all his life. He presses his forehead against Frank's, feeling the warm clammy skin and hot breath on his face.

"Please?" Danny whispers, allowing longing to slip into his voice.

"Shit." Frank breaths out in shock. Must not have expected Danny to indulge him.

"Please Franky." He continues, letting more and more desperation to drip into his tone, "I want to fuck you so bad."

Shaking hands unbutton his jeans and he presses a kiss to Frank's lips. Calming the beast down as he helps Frank tug his jeans low enough to whip his dick out.

"How are we gonna...do this? Haven't seen any Vaseline here." Frank asks.

Oh, good point. Can't really fuck without lube, huh? Danny closes his eyes and connects to the spider.

>i<"Yes?">/i<

He pictures what he wants as clearly as he can manage. Slick, clear semi liquid material. Preferably in a squeeze tube of sorts. Not sticky of course. The Spider hums thoughtfully before Danny feels an object materialize in his hand. He holds up the bottle smugly.

"Jesus fucking christ." Frank says and shakes his head.

Danny pulls his gloves off as Frank takes initiative and tugs his pants down. It takes a bit of awkward maneuvering for that to happen, but eventually he settles in between Frank's legs. He spreads the gel onto his fingers and slowly presses them into Frank, savoring the quiet gasps that escapes him.

"Missed this?"

"Fuck off."

A small laugh escapes Danny as he starts to fuck Frank with his fingers. Frank's hands run over his chest at Danny's teasings.

"You good?"

"Yeah, hurry it up."

Danny rolls his eyes and lubes up his own cock, giving himself a few extra strokes to take a bit of the edge off. He grabs one Frank's legs and lifts it over his shoulder before pressing the head of his slick cock against Frank.

"Go ahead."

Slowly he pushes into Frank, letting out a moan of pleasure as the man tenses around him. Fucker was so damn tight it was hard not to cum just from putting it in. Almost as hot was the way Frank arched his back in pleasure. He pushes in deeper until their thighs touch and Frank gasps under him. He lifts the man's hips up to make sure his cock is as deep as he can be inside Frank.

"You feelin' good, Franky?" Ghostface whispers, gently rocking his hips into Frank, "How much do you like my cock inside you?"

He watches as Frank clenches his fist in the grass and muffles a moan with the other. Ghostface runs a hand along the snake on Frank's chest, the damp skin was hot and causes a shudder to run through the map.

"Want me to fuck you, Frank? Want me to make you see >i/i< stars sweetheart?"

Through a shuddering gasp Frank nods. Ghostface leans in, pressing deeper into Frank as he pushes the man's knee against his chest before whispering in his ear.

"Beg." He mocks, throwing Frank's own words back at him.

A delightful whimper escapes the mans mouth, and Ghostface waits for the inevitable make me.

"P-please."

Ooh, that was a twist. Frank's voice was so needy and desperate. All that edging was getting to him.

"God Danny stop being a pervert and fuck me already." Frank begs as Ghostface pulls back to look down at him.

Finger shaped bruises line his neck, an unfortunate lack of hickeys, but the pink blush and bright eyes do well enough.

"You can cum inside me again. Do whatever you want to me Danny just...move."

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. He pulls away enough to grip Frank's hip, letting the man's leg drop off his shoulder and tow his elbow as he pulls almost completely out of Frank and slams back in.

A scream of pleasure rips through the air as Ghostface sets a brutal pace. Two quick thrusts and one slow hard one. He feels Frank tense around his dick and slows down his thrusts, drawing a frustrated moan.

"Stop being a fucking tease." Frank begs, rolling his hips around the mans cock, "If you let me cum you can keep fucking me."

Tempting, maybe next time he would take him up on that offer.

"If you wanna cum so bad go ahead and do it."

Frank groans drops his head, seeming to give the proposition some thought. He had never met a guy so unwilling to jack off, then again Franky always had someone to do it for him, huh?

"C'mon sweetheart, I wanna watch you do it."

This earned him a halfhearted glare as Frank uses his teeth to tug the bandages off his right hand, revealing the multitude of round white and pink scars dotting the back of hand. The wraps are tossed aside and Frank grasps his cock, stroking slowly.

"Help me out here, Ghosty. You know I'm not very good at this."

Ghostface laughs and wraps his hand around Franks, slowing the pace down and gently twisting his wrist. Earning a soft sigh of pleasure from Frank. He runs his thumb over the tip of Frank's cock in time with his thrusts, slowly working the younger man into a frenzy of moans and whimpers. The man tenses under him once again, and Ghostface decides to give him release. Pushing as deep as he can inside as Frank spills his cum all over his stomach with a groan.

"Fuck...." Frank moans, immediately pushing him over the edge.

He cums inside Frank with a groan, closing his eyes and letting himself ride out the waves of pleasure with soft thrusts before pulling out and letting Frank's legs drop to his sides. He leans down and pulls the man into a hug, nuzzling Frank's neck happily.

"I love you, Frank." Danny breaths out, utterly enraptured in the warmth of the other man.

"Get bent." Frank chokes out, voice shaking with a strange emotion. Danny takes that as a return of his feelings.

This was his prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you only really care about danny and frank this os the last chapter. The next one will be wrapping up from joeys pov like the last one. So hey thanks for reading!


	10. Yamaoka Estate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys joeys in the drivers seat to wrap up this bad boy

Joey misses his brother. He misses a lot of things of course, but he especially missed his brother at this moment. The day they went to the resort was the same day he was due home from University for a two week break. They had planned to go out to a bar and maybe fishing the next day. He was always really close with Zacharie despite him.not liking Frank.

Guess he was right in the end.

The mixtape comes to a stop and Joey hits rewind, waiting a few seconds before hitting play again. Brass Monkey was Zacharie's favorite song. Joey thought it was alright at best since he was never one for Beastie Boys.

"Hey, Joey." A familiar voice sounds to his left. He looks over to see Susie emerge from the long bamboo stalks and approach the bridge. Joey hits pause and slides the headphones off.

She waves at him takes a seat at his side, dangling her feet over the edge. His brush against the small pool of water while her's hover a few inches above the still surface. He had given her the neon blue mask to wear after Frank took her old one. Since then she hadn't removed the cover at all. Joey had already seen the deep, monstrous scars all over her face from the incident, he didn't blame her for covering them up. She always struggled with a lisp, from her teeth and braces, but now it had gotten worse from the damage to her lips. All her words were slurred and thick.

The darkness made no effort to heal her wounds that day. She had been freed of her burden yes, but at what costs?

"The Nurse just left." Susie says casually, leaning her arms on the railing, "She said my cuts healed as well as they would ever. Gave me another shot of that pink stuff too, but it won't help the scars."

Joey can hear the dejected tone in her voice and gently pats her back. So much had changed after the incident. The small niche they had carved out for themselves rotted away. They found themselves without a friend, without a leader. Alone in the dark.

The Fog held so much more than he had ever anticipated.

\- -

Frank shoved past him and marched out the gates. He turns to watch the Fog consume his figure almost instantly to whisk him away to another hunt. A flash of black catches his attention for a moment before a gut wrenching scream sounds from the Chalet. Joey runs towards the building, climbing the steps three at a time before turning into Susie's room.

Julie was kneeling next to Susie, desperately dabbing at her mangled face with the sleeve of her hoodie. Blood and bile dropped off of Susie's face like an open spigot. They dripped onto Frank's abandon mask, coating the white surface in deep red blood.

He turns and almost falls down the steps on his way to the medkit, running back up just as fast. Julie wasn't as quick on her feet as him she had probably forgotten everything at the sight of Susie. He kneels next to his friends and opens the box, mind coming to a halt at the sight of its emptiness. Looking up he meets Julie's fear filled green eyes. She had taken her mask off.

"It was full last trial. When you patched me up." Joey says uselessly.

"I know." Julie replies, dirty face gaining a dark temperance.

"D-did you use it?"

"No."

"Did Fra-"

Susie whimpers at the mention of the man's name, and Joey goes silent. Sitting around wouldn't help. They needed to go get help. Neither he nor Julie was up for another trial, and the possibility of getting a halfway decent medkit from one of the prey was pretty low. Fuckers always burned through those things after one hit.

"Susie, that man you were telling me about. Tall guy, tree like. Where is he?"

He watches her attempt to speak only for blood and spittle to gush from her mouth. Instead she raises a gore encrusted finger and points to the exit gate. Julie and him exchange a knowing look. They had to go out there.

The Fog scared him. He would never admit it aloud, but he knew Julie and Susie had him figured out. The mist held everything, untold horrors and monsters worse than the darkness inside. He was safe in Ormond, he was safe during hunts. He wasn't safe in the mist.

But it was their only hope.

Joey loops one of Susie's arms over his shoulder and stands, half carrying her down the steps and towards the door. She keeps her head down, pink blood streaked hair hiding her face as the three walk into the mist.

"How do we find him, Susie?" Julie asks, edging closer and taking the other girls hand in her own.

Susie raises a finger and taps her temple. A gurgling wheeze escapes her, but Joey understands. He and Susie had been friends since the third grade. They knew each other better than they knew themselves.

"We have to think of it." Joey says as the aimless fog closes around them, "Think of...safety."

"Nowhere here is safe." Julie replies, but nevertheless he sees her turn to glare at the fog. Silently demanding it help.

Susie stumbles when the tall gates emerge from the fog and slows. Nervously Joey tugs her along into the realm, he didn't want to be in the fog any longer. The place is familiar at least, he had been here a few times on hunts. Low walls surrounded a desolate hospital. It wasn't like the other hospital with the t.vs and gurneys that was all indoors. This one was old, with much more menacing looking medical equipment rusting around.

"Hello?" Joey calls, earning him an angry shoosh from Julie.

"What?"

"You don't know what could be here!" She whispers hastily.

"Oh what are we gonna do then, eh? Wonder around until Susie bleeds out? We need help and-"

A scream of agony sounds from the wretched hospital. A cold sweat breaks out all over Joey as he feels Susie stiffen and Julie gasp. From the top of the old building he sees a white blur streak across the field before a ghostly figure appears in front of them with a rush of cold air. Joey jerks back, letting put a cry of shock. He can hear Susie sob with terror at the sight of the creature before them.

"Oh my god." Julie whispers in horror, causing the monster to look her way.

The thing floated a good two feet off the ground. A vintage and tattered dirty dress sways around her bare feet. The bag that covered her head was somehow the worst part, not even the blood stained sleeves unnerved him as much as the expressionless head stared at them with nothing but cold disinterest.

Her unseen eyes alight on Susie and she seems to visibly relax. Floating down a few feet to gently take Susie's head in her hands and tilt her face up. Surprisingly Susie doesn't resist, but her eyes are clenched shut as she shakes in fear.

"We uh, need help. We're...hunters too and she uh, we don't have anything that can...help her." Joey starts, trailing off as that unrelenting non-gaze turns to him.

"Even if you just have bandages we-" Julie is interrupted by a powerful wheeze from the floating nurse.

"I will help. This way, children." The woman rasps out, breathing heavy whistling gasps from the strain of speaking more as she floats to her full height and turns towards the building.

They can do nothing but follow and hope.

\- -

"Where's Rin?" Joey asks, trying to distract Susie from her many woes.

"Oh she's off on a hunt! Y'know how she gets about those things." Susie replies, happy for the distraction and an excuse to talk about the spirit.

"Yeah, still kinda freaks me out when she talks about the darkness."

Rin Yamaoka was a very strange inhabitant of the fog. She had graciously taken them into her estate after the Nurse patched Susie up. It was weird to learn that there were other hunters their age in this realm. Hell, it was weird to learn that so many of these brutal, malformed killers were all kinda chill. Rin had introduced them to at least four or so of the others, and they all acted the same. Surprised to see 'kids' but generally uncaring. It was fun to meet new people. Made him feel almost normal instead of a depressed mess rotting away in Ormond. Apparently their relatively unmarred appearances were an outlier with the killers that haunted the fog, for what reason that was Joey didn't dwell on.

"Oh! Before Rin left she wanted me to tell you that Anna is coming over so you need to hide."

Joey lets out a groan and lays back on the bridge. He lifts his mask to rub his eyes as he whines sullenly.

"I hate that bitch."

"Be nice."

"She hates me too."

"She just hates men, Joey. Not you."

"Oooh excuse me for being a man. I didn't ask for this fat dick."

"That's why you don't have one."

Susie was a cruel ass mistress and he can't help but laugh at that one. She always knew how to cheer him up when he felt down without even having to ask. But at this moment he was feeling particularly vulnerable so he decides to talk about it.

"There was this guy in my hunt. Tall, white coat. Have you seen him?"

Rin had convinced Susie to go to hunts. He isn't sure what exactly she said that wasn't ravings about how the darkness was a protector and she had to quell her rage through sacrifice and devotion. Either way, Susie had done three hunts so far. He couldn't say it made him proud, but it was good that she wasn't hurting as much.

"Uhh, yeah actually I think I've seen him! He's like super tall!"

Joey takes a deep breath and stares at the endless sky.

"He looks like Zacharie."

Susie lets out a soft oh of understanding and Joey swallows thickly.

"Not like, exactly y'know? I mean they look nothing alike in the face but-but he was wearing this jacket in the trial and they have the exact same build and haircut and...and..." His voice cracks and he holds in a sniffle, "What would he think of me if he knew, man? I could barely talk to him on the phone after the-the-the janitor and if he knew what I did here-"

Joey cuts off, burying his face in his hands and finally sobbing for the first time since he got here. He didn't even cry after Frank leaving him, or Jed mocking him, hell he didn't cry about the janitor they killed last year. He just bottled it up inside to look cool and now all he could do was choking on his own tears.

Thank god Frank wasn't here to see him cry this. No doubt he would've teased him mercilessly. Joey takes three quick intakes of breath and releases the air slowly before sitting up, bottling the emotions away yet again. Susie was staring at him in concern, brown eyes noticeably wet with tears as well.

"I'll be okay, don't start crying too."

"S-sorry I uh, I don't know what to say...to help."

Joey pats her shoulder and stands up.

"You've done enough, I'm gonna make myself scarce now. Tell me when bunny Russia is gone."

Susie nods, and Joey walks away. Wiping his eyes and heading towards the edges of the massive garden and the winding trails. His destination was the massive maple tree far away from the house itself. Usually the Huntress didn't stray too far from Rin and the ladies hospitality. He had yet to see her up close, but judging by the warnings of Evan she wouldn't let him live long if he did. He rounds one of the winding paths to see a crop of orange hair tucked into the twisted roots of the maple tree. Now there's someone that would recognize his plight.

"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." Joey calls, voice still thick from his sob fest earlier. Julie's head snaps up in a vicious glare as she flips him off.

"Fuck off."

He joins her under the maple, tucking himself into the dark roots of the tree. To his surprise Julie was idly whittling away at a hunk of wood that was taking the shape of a very crude rocking horse.

"Why were you crying?" She asks, getting right to the point as always.

"Lot's to cry about." Joey replies with a shrug. It was a wonder the waterworks weren't flowin' at all times, "What're you doin'?"

"Carving."

"No fucken' shit, eh?"

"Anna taught me. Not like there's anything better to do 'round here anyway. Rather not listen to Susie gush about Rin." Julie murmurs, bitter as a lemon.

Poor girl. Rebounds off of Frank only for Susie to be snatched away from her. He should count his blessings his own run at Frank didn't get too far.

"You'll find someone." Joey offers.

"Oh sure bud. I'll just go flirt with child snatcher bunny Russia or bag head nurse. Lot of fuckin' pussy out there." Julie snaps, slipping with her knife and cutting her finger. She tugs her bandage over the wound after cursing it.

Joey looks away and leans into the tree while Julie drops her craft project dejected.

"Sorry. I'm...I'm in a bad mood."

"S'okay Jules. We all are."

She gives him a light smile and leans back sadly. They were both goin' through the same struggle, ironically. Crushes utterly enamored with someone else. At least Rin was a nice girl and not the boogeyman him-fucken'-self, Jed Olsen.

"Still thinkin' of him?"

"All the time." Joey admits.

He missed Frank a lot. He, Susie and Julie had been friends for a long time. Susie especially. There was a familiarity with them, they could finish each other's sentences more often than not. As much as he cherished these relationships there was just...something about Frank. He was new, different. Joey could never guess what he was thinking or would do next, if a joke would make him laugh or blow up in rage. It was thrilling. He would do anything to get Frank's approval because it was so hard to. That thinkin' had turned him into a monster.

"Joey...I've been thinking about Frank, and Ghostface."

"Yeah?"

Julie takes a deep breath, as if about to say something very difficult.

"What if Frank wasn't the victim on the outside? I'm not tryin' to say he wasn't...manipulated in some ways but he's...he wouldn't be afraid of Ghostface."

"What are you gettin' at?" Joey asks suspiciously, feeling dread grow in his chest.

"I'm saying that I think Frank was a willing accomplice in the Ghostface murders."

"That's-"

"No! Joey I know you have a crush on him but listen to me!" Julie interrupts, sitting up to give him a firm glare, "Remember Randy? And how Frank just so fucking happened to show up at the party before he was found dead? That guy in his car on orange grove that was gutted? Doesn't that sound like the janitor we-"

"Stop!" Joey screams, physically covering his ears out of anger.

He didn't want to think of that. Yes it was stupid and utterly delusional to think Frank Morrison was anything less than a monster in human form, but he was a monster that had made Joey feel alive. He made him feel special, wanted. Sure he could get attention from anyone, but he didn't have to work for it. He didn't have to work for a smile from his dad, for a good job from his mom, for an 'I love you' from his brother.

But for Frank he had to work for anything. For a simple touch, a smile, even a light hearted insult. Joey gave up his humanity for Frank, they all did.

Look what of fucking got him. Blue balled by a shit eating four eyed reporter that was better at atrocities than a shitty horror movie villain.

The boogeyman himself. That's what Jed Olsen was. A monster that took Frank from them,that cursed them to purgatory.

"Joey," Julie's voice breaks through his barrier, "Frank's always been an asshole, but after that day he changed. Since then he's never cared for me, you, or Susie. He went with Ghostface because he's nothing more than a mindless killer."

He looks into her green eyes, dirt smeared unmasked face and sees only utter conviction in her words.

"I tried for years to get him to...y'know date me and it never worked. The sooner you understand that he's an empty shell the better it will be for you. He's no different than the mask he hides behind."

For the second time today, Joey feels tears slip out of his eyes. He nods demure and they sit in silence under the maple tree.

At least he still had two of his best friend's, he wasn't alone in this hell. More than he could say for Frank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thats all folks. Writing this part was really fun! I had a lot of vauge ideas for ot and im glad i got a chance to really hammer em in. Sorry there wasnt as much ghostfrank in it but eh. I cant wait for this ship to get more fics. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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